


The New Reality

by countingcrow16



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:58:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 56,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingcrow16/pseuds/countingcrow16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A flu outbreak in 2002 decimates 90% of the world's population and renders staggering numbers of survivors infertile. The new order is rigid and people are assigned to duties according to their fertility status. Way AU Kurt, Blaine and Santana focus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

In the summer of 2002, disaster struck. Officially it was the H3N8 virus, but everyone referred to it as the dog flu. It started in the eastern hemisphere, but spread west within days. There was no preparation, no warning. A person would get sick with fever and nausea and within days, sometimes hours, they were gone. It was devastating. The panic level was akin to what one would expect in a time of nuclear warfare. People were holing themselves up in basements, stores were looted and raided for goods. All methods of transportation and communication eventually slowed to a halt.

After several months, nearly ninety percent of the population in the United States was eradicated. The most loss of life occurred amongst those older than forty, which left very few adults in charge of a large number of orphaned children. Once the dust settled, it appeared that those left over had survived not because of any vaccine, (since the outbreak occurred so rapidly, none was ever produced) but because they were simply immune for one reason or another.

The survivors in the state of Ohio, much like survivors in other areas of the country, decided to band together to save what was left of the world. Word spread and people across the state travelled to Columbus to start the rebuilding process. At first, chaos reigned. With no government and no appointed leader, it was impossible for the survivors to figure out a system for growth and survival. Before too long, the adults gathered and held meetings and eventually elections to appoint officials. Once appointed, the officials set out to create a plan, make laws and set boundaries. It was the only way.

Amongst the adults left, there were doctors, school teachers, business owners and so forth. Those with trained professions were instructed to begin operating in them again. Old hospitals were rebuilt and the doctors begin practicing again. Schools were reopened and rudimentary education began taking place, though not truly in earnest. It was hard to focus on education when the world was falling apart.

Those who weren't skilled in professions before the outbreak were assigned as laborers, doing construction, clean up, or whatever other tasks needed to be done in the rebuilding effort. Many women were assigned to the orphan dormitories that were created to house the huge numbers of children left behind after the outbreak.

Within several months of the start of the rebuilding effort, something disturbing was discovered. Fertility rates had plunged, leaving roughly fifty percent of the population infertile. This was a huge blow to the repopulation efforts and it was determined that even more structure would need to be in place to address the problem and ensure that population growth did occur.

The solution was to determine the fertility status of each person once they hit puberty and to match the Fertiles up with each other. Fertiles were instructed to produce as many children as possible and punishment was executed for those who did not obey. It wasn't ideal, but in the minds of the officials, it was the only way to ensure growth.

Infertiles were treated just as poorly, although in a different way. They were assigned to lives of physical labor, either in labor camps, factories or positions of servitude for the officials. It was a hard life, no matter how one looked at it. Well, for everyone but the officials and their families, that is.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

My name is Kurt 3 Lima. Well, not really. My actual name is Kurt Hummel, but ever since the outbreak, my name has been Kurt 3 Lima. The "Lima" is to identify that I'm from Lima, Ohio and the three signifies that I'm the third oldest Kurt surviving from Lima. Really, I'm the youngest Kurt, but calling me "Kurt Youngest Lima" is too much of a mouthful, I suppose, and it would mess with the system. If it's one thing you can't do, it's mess with the system.

I was nine when the flu hit. I didn't really understand what was going on at first, but by the time my mother and father died, it was all too clear. I had no idea what to do without them. For a couple of weeks I just stayed in my house, too scared to leave without the protection of my parents. Eventually I was rounded up, like all the other surviving kids, and bussed to Columbus. Everything has changed since then.

For the past ten years, I've lived in Dormitory E with ninety other boys. For the first few years, we sporadically went to school, learning from teachers who either didn't see the point in education any more or who weren't trained to teach us properly. It was a joke. Thankfully the school I was assigned to had a huge library and I taught myself a lot of what I thought I should be learning.

Once I turned fourteen, I was tested and found out that I was an Infertile. Not that I care, in fact, I'm a little relieved that I won't be assigned to a woman for marriage. On the other hand, I'm not all that excited about my labor placement. Since I was labeled an Infertile, I've been training in my placement as an "environmental custodian." That's a fancy name for groundskeeper. I guess there are worse placements, but my complexion is definitely not cut out for that much sun exposure. Not to mention the callouses you get from brandishing a rake all day long.

Next week, I graduate from the dorm, meaning I will leave the only home I've known for the past ten years and start my life over as an environmental custodian for Housing Complex 14. According to my information packet, I'll have my own little room with a bed and a sink. Lucky me. Like everyone else, my meals, clothing and health care will all be provided and I won't get paid for anything.

There is no money exchange in the New Reality, as they call it. Everything is bartered for or allotted. You'd think that would mean that there are no longer any classes and that everyone is the same, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. The Officials have power and every creature comfort known to man, while the rest of us serve them and work to rebuild. It's not fair, but it's life now.

I'm sad to be leaving my friends behind. Just about all of them are Fertiles and are anxious about their placements next week. Some of them are looking forward to their arranged marriages and all the perks that come along, but most are disturbed by the fact that they can't choose who to be with. It's not that we weren't prepared for it, we've been told all along that this was what would happen when we became of age. It's just that most of us still remember the world as it was before the New Reality. We remember choices and freedom and now that we're old enough to truly desire them, we have to deal with the knowledge that they will forever be out of our grasp.


	2. Chapter 2

My name is Santana Lopez, fuck that Santana 1 Lima bullshit. I know the Officials made us change our names to prevent inbreeding and two-headed lizard babies or whatever, but I am the one and only and they should respect that.

Ever since the outbreak, me and my little sister Marina have been living in crappy Dormitory B, waiting to reach adulthood so that the rest of our lives can be decided by a group of old people who think they have it all figured out. Well you know what? I don't think they having one fucking clue what they're doing here.

Four years ago I found out I was a Fertile, which would be fantastic if I actually wanted to have a bunch of snotty kids running around. I don't though, so really it's just a kick in the lady balls. They tell you all these rules about how many kids you need to have and what will happen if you don't work on the Officials' timeline. They call it progressive discipline, what they do if you don't get pregnant quick enough. Apparently, the first time they just make you do it with your spouse while an Official watches to make sure it's actually happening, which is creepy enough. Our "Womanhood Instructors" (which, time out, who the hell came up with that lame-ass name?) won't tell us what the next step in discipline is, but they have promised over and over that it just gets worse from there.

I'm going to be really honest here, and maybe it's just because I've been surrounded by girls for almost the past decade, but I'm pretty sure I'm gay. In fact, I was pretty sure before the outbreak, I just didn't have a name for it, not to mention that I would have been put out on the streets if my family knew. Funny, that sounds almost preferable to the shit I'm dealing with now.

So now, not only am I going to be forced to have kids when I don't even want them, but I'm going to be forced to do it with some stupid boy, who's going to be a complete stranger from a completely different town, so there's no way I'll even have met him before. The only boys we've had contact with over the years have been from Dormitory E, which houses the boys from Lima. Most of them I knew from before, since we went to the same school and since the Officials are so worried about accidently matching up a brother and sister for marriage (eww), they arrange marriages between people from different parts of the state.

I got my information packet yesterday, which describes my husband-to-be as well as our housing placement. I guess I could have done worse, based on the description and photograph of Blaine 2 Westerville. He's a bit of a hobbit, but at least he's not shorter than me. His personality is described as amicable and easy-going, which is funny, because I'd be willing to bet that the information he got on me says the exact opposite. These Officials think they're awfully clever, don't they?

A couple of months before the outbreak, I remember watching this documentary about arranged marriages on PBS with my abuela. One of the things I remember is that the groom and bride almost never got to meet or even know each other's names before the ceremony. The narrator explained that it was to keep the bride and groom from running away if they saw that they were getting married to someone they weren't attracted to. There were other reasons, but that was the one that stuck out to me.

Anyway, it made me wonder when I got my information packet on Blaine 2 Whatever and they put a picture of him in there. What if he was ugly and seeing him made me want to run away in terror? Wouldn't it be safer for the Officials if they did everything blind, like the old arranged marriages?

And then I figured it out. They don't need to hide him from me or vice versa because they know we can't escape it. There's absolutely nothing either of us can do about it, and that cocky assuredness is almost worse than the arrangement itself.

All I know is this, my name is Santana Lopez and if it is the last thing I do, I'm going to figure a way out of this, if not for me, then for Marina. She's fourteen now, and in a few weeks she finds out her fertility status. I don't know whether to pray for her to be a Fertile to save her from the life of hard physical labor and loneliness or for her to be an Infertile to save her from the shithole I'm currently about to fall into. Either way though, we're getting out, the two of us. I haven't figured out when or how yet, but it's going to happen. Fuck the Officials, I'm out.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My name is Blaine 2 Westerville and I am a Fertile male living in Dormitory C. Next week, I move into my new housing complex with my new wife and begin working toward the repopulation effort. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous about the whole thing. I mean, I understand why the Officials made the system the way it is, but the whole arrangement isn't exactly ideal.

I'm not going to sit here like everyone else and complain about how evil the Officials are. They're just doing their job like everyone else and without them, where would we be? It's going to take every last one of us working together if we're going to make this world what it used to be, and maybe even take it a step further than that.

While the sole responsibility of a Fertile female is to birth and raise children for the entirety of their fertile period, Fertile males are also assigned to a position outside the home. I've been assigned as an assistant to one of the top Officials. This is another aspect of my new life about which I'm slightly terrified. Don't get me wrong, I'm really honored that they chose me for such an esteemed position, and I've been told that assistants are assigned to this particular post because the potential to rise to the level of Official someday is there, but it's still nerve racking.

My information packet explains that I'll have two weeks to settle into married life before I'm to report for duty at the Officials' building. The description of my wife, Santana 1 Lima, is reassuring. Judging by her picture she's stunning, and her listed attributes include intelligent, stubborn and down-to-earth.

I guess I'm most nervous about the marriage aspect of my new life. I've never really been interested in girls, or thought a whole lot about what I would do once I was married to one. I mean, I know the mechanics of how everything is physically supposed to work, but I can't really say that I've ever desired to be with a girl.

Maybe it's just because I'm so focused on the rebuilding effort. What happened to the world in 2002 was absolutely devastating, but I truly believe that with enough hard work and dedication, it won't be long until we've succeeded in our mission and things can get back to the way they were. No more arranged marriages, we can instill a free market system again, the possibilities are really endless.

Even though I can't say that I'm thrilled about my marriage ceremony next week, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't excited to have kids. I love kids and when my little brother and sister…no, stop. I can't keep doing this to myself. Thinking about the past only inhibits progression into the future, that's what the Officials tell us. Suffice it to say that while I'm not looking forward to the process, I am looking forward to the outcome.

My packet also included pictures and a description of our dwelling in Housing Complex 14. It's a nice little starter home with several bedrooms. One of the incentives for having more children is that when you outgrow one home, you're supplied with a bigger, nicer home and they only get better with the more children you have.

I've heard people argue that the incentives for having more children don't count because you can be punished for not having enough children, but I don't buy that. From what I understand, the punishments are there as a warning, but rarely used. They mostly exist to encourage people to do their parts in the repopulation effort. After all, if even a single person doesn't do their part, it can throw the whole system.

In any case, I'm about to spend my last week as a child before beginning my new life as a Fertile. It won't be long until I'm a husband, a father and an assistant to an Official. I'm interested to see what my new life has in store for me. I truly believe that no matter how mapped out your path in life is, there is always room for surprises, and I welcome any that may come my way.


	3. Chapter 3

_While the Infertile's contributions to the repopulation effort are negligible, his or her contributions to the overall regrowth effort are immeasurable._

_-Infertile Handbook, Introduction_

Kurt and the other Infertile graduates walked single-file to their designated seats in the gymnasium formerly belonging to George Washington High School. Now it was the arena in which all public matters were held.

Today was a special day, or so the graduates, Fertiles and Infertiles alike, were told. It was the day they began their new lives. For Fertiles, it meant a new home, a new spouse, and a new work assignment if male. For Infertiles, it was less intense, but a change nonetheless. There would be no more dormitory stays with twenty kids to a room and as much as life was regulated and planned out, most of the graduates were happy to have a space to their own or to be shared with only one other person.

Kurt made small talk with the boys around him. They were a small class already, but when one factored in the unusually high number of Fertiles graduating this year, Kurt's status was even more unique. Out of forty graduates, eighteen male and twenty two female, only fifteen were Infertile and of those, Kurt was one of six.

This year, among the Fertiles, there were thirteen females and twelve males. Obviously, when it came to matching up for marriage, this posed a problem. The fate of a leftover Fertile, especially a female, was not one to be envied by anyone. Some years, it worked out that an odd number the year before would solve the problem relatively easily, but when a substitute spouse from the year prior wasn't available, the female Fertile would be matched with a widower, if one was available, regardless of age.

In the ten years since the New Reality was adopted, there hadn't yet been an instance where a substitute spouse couldn't be found by one of these two means. As Kurt watched the look of trepidation on the leftover Fertile's face from across the aisle, he shuddered to think what the next alternative might be.

Kurt scanned the gathering crowd. All adults were required to attend graduation if their work duties didn't preclude them from doing so. He recognized a lot of faces and with almost everyone gathered in one place, it was striking to see just how few adults were left compared to the children. The flu had wiped out huge numbers of the middle-aged and older population, but the way things were run in the New Reality, one would never guess at the huge discrepancy in the adult to children ratio.

Within a few minutes, everyone was sitting and waiting patiently for the ceremony to begin. It was always the same, the Head Official would welcome everyone with a small speech that was ripped almost verbatim from the handbooks the graduates were given in their final weeks at the dormitories. Next, the Infertiles were brought up and their individual job placements and housing assignments were announced.

If Kurt was being honest with himself, he knew that no one really cared or paid attention to the Infertile portion of the ceremony. Despite what his handbook told him, he knew that once someone was labeled an Infertile, they were considered only slightly more than useless. Sure, they were there for the hard labor and the dirty jobs that no one else wanted to do, but what really mattered in this society was one's ability to reproduce.

The overriding philosophy, and the one upon which the New Reality was formed, is that the quicker a population is rebuilt, the quicker things could return to the old way. More people meant more manpower, more brainpower and more production overall. At least, that was the theory. And so far, things did appear to be getting better in some respects. People were able to spend less time focusing on survival and more time on education, invention and innovation. It wasn't perfect and it certainly wasn't up to the same level as it had been before the outbreak, but there was potential.

The next part of the ceremony was what made everyone sit up in their seats a bit. As the Fertiles nervously made their ways to the stage, indistinct murmurs could be heard rippling through the crowd. The Fertiles were still separated into a male and female group and while they each knew who they were being matched to, it was a mystery to the crowd around them.

The Head Official began calling pairs up, announcing their names, housing assignment and the male's job placement. Kurt couldn't help but feel jealous at the cushy-sounding jobs handed down to the Fertiles. Office assistant, bookkeeper (for which Kurt could only assume meant some kind of log-keeping, to monitor food and materials portions allotment), teacher, and so forth. It was nothing compared to what Kurt and the other Infertiles were assigned to. For the second time in less than ten minutes, he truly felt like a second class citizen.

Kurt was only half paying attention when his ears perked up to the sound of "Santana 1 Lima" reverberating in the room. Sitting up taller, he watched as Santana and her assigned spouse came to the center of the stage. He'd known her before and while they weren't always the best of friends, he admired her determination and take-no-prisoners attitude. He contemplated the couple as they stood there.

The male, who's name Kurt didn't catch, looked nervous and sweaty while Santana looked like she was about to cut someone. She held her head high while her new husband did his best to not look like he was going to puke. Kurt laughed a bit to himself. That poor guy was in for a rude awakening. Despite the fact that neither seemed comfortable up there, it didn't appear that they were holding it against each other. Few couples did. After all, what would be the point? Neither chose the arrangement, and the easiest thing to do was to try their best to get along with one another. Kurt wondered if it would be easier said than done in this particular case.

There was something about the male, Blaine 2 Westerville (Kurt caught his name the second time around when the Head Official sealed their marriage to each other). Something about his eyes that drew Kurt in and he found himself wishing he knew the boy from Dormitory C. He couldn't remember ever seeing the boy, but that was typical. Dormitories C and E rarely interacted over the years. But much to Kurt's surprise, and for some odd reason, liking, Santana and Blaine were assigned to Housing Complex 14, the same one in which Kurt would be living and working. Kurt was happy that there would be at least one familiar face in Santana and he couldn't help daydreaming throughout the rest of the ceremony what it might be like to get to know her new husband as well.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Male Fertiles must be prepared for the reality that their new spouse may be uncomfortable, or in some cases, openly hostile during the first few days of marriage. Efforts should be made on the behalf of the male to make his spouse as comfortable as possible in preparation for reproductive activities._

_\- Fertile Male Handbook, Chapter 1, Marriage_

"So I guess this is it," Blaine spoke nervously to his new spouse as they walked into their housing assignment. It was bare, unadorned, but comfortable looking. A vast improvement over the dormitories, at least. The two walked around the unit silently, opening closet doors and kitchen cabinets. The refrigerator was stocked, and the information packet left on the kitchen table instructed that in the future, they (specifically the female) would be responsible for obtaining their groceries at the Stock, the food distribution center.

"I want you to know that I'm not sleeping with you."

Hearing his wife's voice for the first time startled Blaine, causing him to bump his head from underneath the kitchen sink where he was, for some inexplicable reason, checking out the plumbing. He winced, extracting himself from the floor and turned to face Santana.

"Well, I mean, yeah sure, that's fine," he stuttered, trying to sound casual. "I guess that's why they give us two weeks, right? I mean, we have to get used to each other before we just, you know—"

"No, hobbit, you don't get it," Santana snarled back, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I'm not having sex with you, not now, not in two weeks, not ever."

Blaine was speechless. He didn't really want to have sex with her either, but she was acting like they had a choice in the matter. He watched her for a few moments before deciding on the right thing to say.

"Maybe we should just focus on getting used to each other for now," Blaine said, deciding not to push the issue. It was an emotional day, and terrifying too. At least, Blaine reasoned, if it had been for him, it must have been for her as well.

"Yeah well, just so's you know," Santana retorted as she walked out of the kitchen and down the long hallway to the master bedroom. Blaine heard the door slam and sat down at the table, rubbing his forehead wearily. This was not a good start to their marriage.

As much as Blaine wanted to focus on figuring out a plan to get on Santana's good side, the truth was that he was exhausted. The graduation and wedding ceremony had been completely draining and he wanted nothing more than to take a nap.

He walked down the hallway, briefly contemplating knocking on the master bedroom door for another attempt at making nice with Santana, but decided against it. Better to give her some time to acclimate to the situation, he thought. Instead of keeping on straight, he turned to the right into the small bedroom intended for their first child and curled up on the bed. Within minutes he was asleep, mind overflowing with all the ways his life was changing and all his fears about somehow screwing it up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 2

Santana was pleasantly surprised when Blaine didn't try to weasel his way into the bedroom that first night. She was grateful, even, but there was no way she was letting her guard down around her new spouse, not after one night, not ever. But she knew she had to figure something out. She couldn't decide what was worse, having to sleep with someone she had absolutely no hand in selecting, or risking the mysterious progressive discipline the Officials were always warning against.

Then, of course, she had to think about Marina. How would Santana's actions affect her? Would the Officials punish her for the sins of her big sister? There were just so many unknowns in the new way of life and despite the air of control and order emanated from those in charge, to Santana, everything constantly seemed on the brink of destruction. Like one act of rebellion could topple the whole thing.

There had been, over the course of the last decade, small factions usually consisting of just a few people that tried to break off from the New Reality. It never worked. If someone tried to leave, they were brought back and depending on how serious their efforts to depart, they would be punished accordingly and usually publicly. One time, a child had stepped outside the eastern border, chasing after a rabbit. The Officials determined that the kid was innocent and probably hadn't even realized that he'd left. Obviously his punishment was minor, twenty smacks with a wooden paddle in the commons for all to see. He was embarrassed more than hurt.

That was the mildest punishment to which Santana had ever borne witness. She shuddered when she remembered some of the others. Public executions were rare, after all, wasn't reproduction the whole goal of the New Reality? Santana was twelve when she saw her first murder. And that was what it was in her mind, there was no other word for it. They brought the man to the commons with a black pillow case over his head and listed his crimes for everyone to hear; Treason, Conspiracy, Escape, Endangerment of Children, and so on. The man had been trying to get his family out, his real family, the one he had before the outbreak. His Fertile daughter was about to be forced into marriage and he decided to get her and his wife out. The wife and daughter were spared. Well, their lives were spared. Santana imagined that having to watch their father and husband shot and killed right in front of them didn't really spare them from much.

It seemed that no one had the balls to question the Officials on why people weren't allowed to leave on their own free will. When Santana was younger, it didn't make a whole lot of sense. Why force people to stay when they didn't want to, why not just let them strike out on their own and try surviving on the land? But as she got older, it started to make more sense. Without the threat of punishment and death, no one would stay. Who would willingly stay in a place where one's every movement was planned out and monitored, where one didn't get to choose who to be with and whether or not to raise a family with that person? No one, as far as Santana was concerned, and certainly not her.

Santana shook her head to try to clear her mind. She'd been awake for about thirty minutes, but stayed sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to come up with a game plan. Blaine seemed respectful and nice and she could definitely use those traits to her advantage. The thing that worried her the most, however, was his job assignment as assistant to an Official. Either that meant that he'd displayed loyalties that the Officials picked up on, or he was just a victim of random luck. Either way, it was only going to make things more difficult for Santana to try to beat the system.

_Or_ , Santana thought to herself with a rare spark of optimism, _maybe it could be useful to have someone on the inside._ If she could win Blaine over and convince him to help her escape with Marina, then she would have someone working on the inside. She reset her mind to begin thinking of ways to accomplish her new plan. She began considering something she hadn't ever thought she'd do, but if it meant that she could reach her ultimate goal of getting out, she may just have to win him over with her feminine wiles.

She may just have to sleep with him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaine looked up from where he sat at the kitchen table as he heard the master bedroom door open quietly. He'd slept alright, considering the bed in the other room was made for a toddler. His neck was a little sore from curling up awkwardly all night, but all in all, it could have been worse.

He'd gotten up early, a combination of the uncomfortable bed and racing thoughts about how he was going to get his new spouse to like him made sleep hard to come by. He figured he'd probably had a three hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep, but the rest of the night was spent tossing and turning. Even with all that time spent trying to think of how to fix the problem with Santana, as she made her way cautiously down the hallway, he still had no idea what to do.

"Morning," she said, surprising Blaine with her voice. He hadn't expected her to say anything to him, unless it was to tell him again that she wasn't going to sleep with him. Even more shocking, she pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

"Good morning," he answered when he found his voice again. "D-did you sleep alright?"

"Yeah, I guess, hey listen, I'm sorry about how I acted last night, I just…I was just nervous and overwhelmed, you know?" Santana hoped that he would buy into it. She wasn't completely lying, she was nervous and overwhelmed to some degree, even if the real overriding emotions had been anger and disgust, and she was sorry about the fact that Blaine had spent the night sleeping on that pathetic excuse for a bed. He was the type of person Santana would normally chew up and spit out, twice if necessary, but as much as she didn't want to admit it, she needed him.

"Oh, yeah, don't worry about it," Blaine answered quickly, with audible relief. "I understand, I was kind of feeling the same thing, so…"

He trailed off, not really knowing what to say next. Should he offer to make breakfast? Ask her more about herself? This was so awkward, how did the Officials expect people to bond like this?

"Do we have anything to eat around here? I'm starving." Santana stood up from the table and began rummaging through the cabinets.

"If you'd like I could make you something," Blaine offered, standing up.

"I can do it myself," Santana turned around and snapped. Blaine winced like he'd been slapped and she took a deep breath, cursing herself for not keeping her emotions in check.

"I'm sorry, I…what I meant to say is, I um, I really like to cook," Santana stuttered, trying to make up for lost ground. "I would, um, really like it if you'd let me make breakfast for us."

_There's no way he's going to buy that,_ she thought to herself. The words tasted wrong on her tongue, and she was almost positive she'd been making a face when she spoke them.

"Sure, okay," Blaine answered, confusion etching his face. He sat back down and tried to remember everything his handbook said on the subject of new spousal relations. Mood swings and fluctuations, confusion in assigning household chores, and so on. In the end, Blaine trusted that his handbook was right. After all, it wasn't like he had any experience with any of this before.

He watched Santana's back as she moved around the tiny kitchen, turning on the stove, cracking eggs and setting the oven. She certainly looked like she knew what she was doing. From what he understood, Fertile females were trained in the domestic arts from the time they find out their fertility status, which was usually a four or five year span. Santana would have learned to cook, clean and raise children during that time, whereas Blaine received no such training. His education had been largely in academia, with specific skill training occurring in his last year prior to graduation.

Even thinking about it, he could see how unfair it was, the disparity between the educations of males and females, but that was the way it had to be, at least for a while, at least until the success of the repopulation and regrowth efforts could be measured.

"How do you like your eggs?" Santana's voice jolted Blaine out of his thoughts. She hadn't turned around to ask him, but her voice didn't have the edge it had earlier, he noticed.

"Scrambled please," he answered. "And thank you."

She didn't answer, and Blaine was worried he'd offended her, even though she'd asked. _Give her time_ , he told himself, _she'll come around if you're patient._

Blaine settled back in his chair and resumed watching Santana cook. Things were going to be okay, he determined. If he did everything right, it would all work out the way it was supposed to and it was his mission to make it so. If not for himself, then for the greater efforts of the New Reality, because to Blaine, that was what really mattered in the end.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 3

_Environmental Custodian Duties_

_Section One: Daily Responsibilities_

_-Walk each path to identify debris and remove as necessary_

_-Tend to community garden, picking, pruning and planting when needed_

_-Water the plants in quadrants A and C on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays_

_-Water the plants in quadrants B and D on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays_

_-Check the maintenance log posted at the community board for any messages from residents and respond to needs accordingly_

_-Environmental Custodian Handbook, Page 7_

Kurt looked over the page a second time, not bothering to abstain from rolling his eyes. Of all the stupid jobs he could have been assigned, he got stuck with this one. Basically, it boiled down to him lurking around the housing complex all day looking for sticks to pick up from the sidewalks.

For whatever strange reason, the Officials put a high priority on keeping up the physical appearances of both the housing complexes and the other areas within the community. It was like they were trying to give the appearance of some Stepford-esque utopia, as if they thought they could fool everyone into believing that this wasn't one step away from Hell.

Upon reflection, Kurt wished that he could have made a little more effort to show aptitude in a different area. Maybe he could have ended up as a cook or something. But Kurt's sin was apathy, he just didn't care enough to put forth the effort. He imagined it could have been worse, he could have ended up on the factory line or at the slaughter house. He shuddered at the thought. All in all, as much as he hated direct sunlight and raking leaves, he figured he should be thankful to a certain extent that he wasn't bleeding pigs all day.

With a sigh, he placed his handbook down on the small table by his bed and exited his room. There was no door on the tiny cubby hole that constituted his 'home.' After all, what would an Infertile need privacy for? Walking down the hallway, he counted the other room in the building that housed the Infertile males in his housing complex. Four little rooms on each side, eight altogether. Kurt was the only one whose job assignment kept him on the complex grounds, everyone else was farmed out to their jobs around the community.

Community, my ass, Kurt thought to himself. He winced every time that word was used to describe the open-air prison fate had flung him into. Nothing about the New Reality suggested community and it Kurt's mind, all this business about creating a perfect-looking housing complex with freshly watered plants and trimmed hedges amounted to little more than polishing a turd.

Kurt entered the small kitchen and opened the refrigerator, finding the small container labeled "Kurt 3 Lima – Breakfast" and pulled it out. Life was so planned out for an Infertile that he didn't even get to choose his own meals. One of the Infertile females was assigned to the job of cooking all the meals for the other Infertiles in the complex. Kurt could only hope that she knew what she was doing.

After eating, he cleared the table and used the communal bathroom before heading out for his first day of work. He'd thought about taking along his handbook, but he had his stupid chores memorized and he figured if anything came up that he had to consult the handbook for, he could come back for it. No sense in lugging it around, anyway.

His Official-issued wristwatch told him it was seven in the morning. The sun was coming up and it was time to head out. Kurt sighed wistfully as he exited the building, wishing that life was the way it used to be, before the outbreak. He should be headed off to college, maybe in New York somewhere, but instead…well, no use torturing himself about it. This was life now and there wasn't much he could do to change it.

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Santana was sitting on her front stoop, trying to wake up for the day. She was never one to stop and watch the sunrise, but she needed to get out of the house for a while, even if it was just on the front step. She'd allowed Blaine to sleep in the bed with her the night before, although the two stayed as far away from each other as humanly possible. He still hadn't made a move on her on their first full day together, which she was grateful for again, but it was awkward as hell just being in the same house as him.

She'd done everything she could to try and play nice with him and for some strange reason he was buying it. She couldn't tell if he was dumb or just a really good, trusting person, but something told her it was the latter. If he was dumb, he wouldn't have been chosen for an assistant to an Official position.

She knew that she'd have to start making headway with Blaine soon, if she was going to convince him to help her before his job had him completely brainwashed. She had a little less than two weeks now before he had to go off to work for the first time and it just didn't seem like long enough to try to accomplish her goals. She had to try though, there wasn't really another option in her mind.

Santana was broken out of her scheming when she heard a soft hum come from around the corner. She thought she recognized the voice, but didn't chance to call out until the person it belonged to came around from the back corner of her housing assignment.

"Kurt?" she greeted. He was looking in the other direction, but stopped in his tracks when he heard his name.

"Santana!" he exclaimed before he'd even turned fully to see her. He ran up the short path to her house and drew her into a firm hug. It wasn't that they were super close friends, but he felt a connection to her nonetheless and he was so grateful to have someone he knew, and someone who'd known him before, living so near to him.

"Oh my God, what are you doing here?" Santana asked excitedly. They both sat back down on the small patio, legs crossed facing each other. Kurt had no idea if this was allowed, it definitely wasn't considered one of his daily duties, but he didn't really care at the moment.

"Well, if you'd been paying attention at our graduation," Kurt teased while Santana rolled her eyes. "You would have heard that I was assigned to both live and work here in 14."

"I've got to say, that's the best news I've heard in a while," Santana answered truthfully with a hint of sadness that Kurt wasn't used to hearing from her.

"So, how is it?" Kurt asked tentatively. "Have you two—"

"Hell no," Santana cut him off, guessing at what he was alluding to. "Not yet, anyway. I don't ever want to, but I may have to."

"Um, yeah," Kurt chuckled. "It's not really optional from what I understand."

Santana remained silent and dropped her head, eyes refocusing on her lap. Kurt hadn't seen her like this in a long time, not since they were little, right after the outbreak.

"Hey, I'm sorry, San," Kurt apologized, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to make light of it, it's just…God it's so wrong, I just don't know how to even begin to wrap my mind around what they make you do."

"Yeah, well," Santana began, sniffing once and looking up. She'd put on her game face and Kurt knew she was seeking cover behind the stone wall she'd built long ago. "It is what it is, I suppose."

Kurt just nodded, not knowing what to say to make any of it better. They spoke quietly for a few more minutes, Kurt describing what his job was going to be and Santana listening, offering her trademark snarky remarks at every turn. She said something that sent them both into giggles for a few moments.

When the laughter died down, Santana cleared her throat and asked Kurt, "Will you sing for me?"

Kurt looked into her deep brown eyes and sensed the tiny bit of vulnerability that lie there. He knew from personal experience that this was a gift from Santana. When her defenses were up, she could hide any emotion she needed or wanted to, but she was trusting Kurt at that moment and he wasn't about to misuse that.

"Of course I will."

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_One track mind like a goldfish_

_Stuck inside my petri dish_

_I can't breathe and I can't smile_

_This better be worth my while_

Blaine jolted up out of the bed quickly when he heard the voice. It was like the voice of an angel and not just because it had been years upon years since he'd heard someone sing other than himself. Singing and other forms of artistic expression weren't encouraged in the dormitories or in school, so there was never an occasion to be able to sing. Every now and then, however, on those rare occasions when he found himself alone for a few moments, he would almost always use the time to sing softly to himself. Sometimes it was to calm his nerves, sometimes it was just to prove to himself that he remembered how.

_I feel numb most of the time_

_Lower I get the higher I'll climb_

_And I will wonder why_

_I got dark only to shine_

_Looking for the golden light_

_Oh, it's a reasonable sacrifice_

_Burn, burn, burn bright_

Blaine felt the voice drawing him in, as if it grew tendrils wafting through the air and wrapped itself around his ankles, beckoning him closer. He stood up and walked out of the room as if in a trance.

_Forego family, forego friends_

_It's how it started, how it ends_

_I can't open up and cry_

_'Cause I've been silent all my life_

Blaine reached the front door but didn't open it. Instead he closed his eyes and leaned into it, humming along quietly. He didn't recognize the song, but he recognized the words. They sounded familiar despite having never heard them before. And that voice gave him the same feeling. It was so unique and he knew he'd never heard it before in reality, but it was like the voice had been with him his whole life. It was familiar and foreign all at once.

_Ooh, I get dark_

_Ohh, and I'm in hell_

_I need a friend_

_Ooh, but I can't yell_

_Yeah I'm no good_

_No good to anyone_

_'Cause all I care about_

_Is being number one_

He listened as the stranger finished out the song. Whoever it was, was sitting right outside his door and for the first time he realized that Santana was nowhere in the house. He knew the voice didn't belong to her, it was too soft. It was equally as strong as his spouses, but the strength was not the same, it seemed to come from a different place.

After a few moments of silence had passed, Blaine decided to risk opening the door. He didn't know if the person would still be there, and he wasn't sure if he wanted them to be there or not. He just had to know if what he'd just experienced was real.

Creaking open the door carefully, he was surprised to see a vulnerable Santana wrapped tightly in a strangers arms. He was rubbing her back lightly as she rested her head on his shoulder. Even though it had only been a day and a half since he'd moved in with her, Blaine was shocked to see this side of her. He hadn't been sure it existed. Neither she nor the stranger seemed to have noticed the door open, so Blaine cleared his throat softly, causing the two to jump back and look up at him, startled.

"Blaine," Santana greeted, standing up. The stranger did the same. "Hey, this is Kurt, he um, he's from Lima, we knew each other before."

"Oh, okay, uh," Blaine stuttered. The minute Kurt looked into his eyes, Blaine lost almost all brain function. He'd never seen someone quite so beautiful, though it would be a while before he knew that was why he couldn't make the words go from his brain to his tongue.

"Hi, I'm Blaine," he started again after taking a second to compose himself. He stuck out his hand and the other boy accepted it in a firm, but friendly shake.

"Kurt," he introduced himself. "Nice to meet you, I guess. I, um, I better get going, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be watering a plant or picking up a stick or something, but I'll see you guys around."

Kurt looked back and forth between Blaine and Santana. He didn't want to like Blaine, since he knew that, through no fault of his own, he'd be forced to engage in a sexual relationship with Santana when she didn't want it, but there was something about the other boy that intrigued him. He wanted desperately to stay, to drink in the co-ed social interaction that he'd been missing for so long, but he knew he had work to do, no matter how menial. At least now he knew where Santana was, and hopefully he could keep stopping by to check on her and make sure she was surviving. He worried about her.

"Bye Kurt," Santana called after him, sounding slightly wistful. He turned around to wave before heading back around the corner to continue on with his duties.

For the rest of the day, try as he might, he couldn't get his mind off of the mysterious Blaine. He decided he would get to know him better, and had almost convinced himself it was in order to protect Santana and to a large degree, it was, but he'd be lying if he said that was the only reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: "Numb" by Marina and the Diamonds (This song came out a couple of years ago, so technically it doesn't exist in this universe, but I'm willing to overlook it if you are :) )
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

Today was the day, Santana decided. Whether she liked it or not, time was slipping away and she had to reach Blaine before he started his job. She laughed humorlessly at herself when she thought back to just a few days prior when she swore she'd never sleep with her arranged spouse, and as much as her heart was still fighting it, her brain reminded her that it was the only way.

It wasn't that she hadn't tried to think of other, less invasive, ways. After all, she was a powerful, conniving, convincing head bitch in charge from birth and no flu outbreak was going to take that away from her. Sure, her whole personality may have been muted growing up in the dormitories, but she never lost that fierceness inside. It had simply been lying in wait for the perfect time to emerge and rescue her and her sister from their fates.

Now it seemed that sleeping with Blaine was the only way. It was day four of their marriage and curiously, he still hadn't tried anything with her. In some ways, that made it even worse for Santana. It was a lot easier to hate someone when they gave you a good reason. Blaine was just so…nice, and…respectful. Santana had a hard time wrapping her mind around it.

It was the evening, now, and the sun was just starting to set. Santana made a beautiful meal, proving that despite how bored and uninterested she tried to appear during her domesticity classes, cooking had been the one that she'd actually, begrudgingly enjoyed. Blaine obviously appreciated her talents, eating up every last bit of food she'd put on his plate. Not that it amounted to much. Portions allotted to each household for each family member were tiny compared to what people were used to before the outbreak, but after ten years, people were used to the new normal.

Portion control was one of those issues that the Officials tried to put a positive spin on. They harped on and on about the fact that obesity was all but vanished—of course, among the Officials and their families, it still existed to a higher degree. They focused on the message that less obesity meant a healthier population, but completely ignored the fact that people no longer had any say-so about what they chose to eat and how much of it they wanted to consume. It was easy to see how the Officials got away with their propaganda in brain-washing the masses, but to Santana, it was just as easily for someone to see through it, if they chose to.

"Wow, Santana," Blaine exclaimed in-between bites of food. "This is so good. I can't believe you did all this with our allotments."

"Well, what can I say," Santana leaned back, watching him eat and trying not to let her nerves about what she was about to have to do get the best of her. "I guess that domesticity training is good for something."

"I'll say," Blaine agreed, polishing off the last bite and chasing it down with a gulp of water. Santana got up to start clearing the table, but when she reached over to grab Blaine's plate, he placed a gentle hand on her forearm, causing her to freeze in action.

"No, let me, please," Blaine asked, standing up. "You've cooked and cleaned up every night, let me at least do the dishes tonight."

Santana started to protest, wanting to get on his good side as much as possible, but she realized that letting him clean up was what he wanted more, strangely enough. Plus, she thought with a trembling inward sigh, it would give her the chance to prepare.

"Okay, thanks," she relented, nodding and giving a small smile. "I'll just be in the bedroom cleaning up. Do you…do you want to join me when you're done?"

She couldn't have been more blatant, between her carefully chosen words, the emphasis she placed on them and her body language. Blaine definitely received the message.

"Oh, um, you mean, uh," Blaine stuttered, cursing himself for his inability to form a complete sentence. "Yeah, I'll, um, I'll be there in just a few minutes."

He tried to smile at her and hated how he imagined it looked to her, but he was incredibly nervous and having a hard time showing it. This was it. The moment he'd been anticipating and trying not to dread since he found out he was going to be married. Santana either didn't read much into his reaction or chose to ignore it, because she simply returned the smile and turned her back to him, heading down the short hallway to the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Blaine waiting until the door was completely closed before returning his attention to the dishes. Half of him wanted to hurry up and finish cleaning as soon as possible and the other half never wanted the chore to end. He settled on some point in the middle, cleaning at a regular pace while trying to get into the right frame of mind for what he was about to do.

Unfortunately, every time he tried to think about sleeping with his wife over the past few days, his thoughts turned to her childhood friend, Kurt. Ever since he met Kurt two days prior, he couldn't stop thinking about the other boy. His eyes, his voice, his lips, his body….his everything.

It was something that was confusing to Blaine. He'd never thought about girls the way his friends did in the dormitory. He figured that made him good, that he was focusing so much on trying to do his part for the efforts of the New Reality that he didn't have time to fantasize about girls. He imagined that when the time came, he'd focus on one girl, his wife, and then he would experience all the feelings and excitements that his friends were always whispering about.

But that time was now. He was married, his wife was, by anyone's standards, gorgeous and he was about to have sex with her. Still, all he could think about was Kurt. What it would be like to be married to him instead. To be expending that nervous energy fantasizing about getting into bed with him instead of Santana…

Blaine shook his head hard. _Stop,_ he told himself. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural to have those kinds of feelings about another boy. He needed to refocus his energies on his wife and the reproduction efforts. After all, that was what it was all about.

As he finished drying and putting away the last dish, Blaine gave himself a small pep talk. He reminded himself that he was doing his part for the efforts of their community and that one day, it would all be worth it. If he could keep himself focused on the light at the end of the tunnel, he could get through anything. Closing his eyes for a moment and wringing out his hands, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He opened his eyes slowly and began making his way back to the bedroom.

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Santana closed the door behind her and headed to the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. Pulling her hair down from the tight ponytail she always kept it in, she brushed long strokes until her hair was shiny and full. She pushed her shoulders back and looked deep into her own eyes in the mirror.

"You've got this, Lopez," she told herself out loud. She went back into the bedroom and began shedding the clothes she'd worn that day. Unfortunately, the Officials apparently didn't see the importance of the role of foreplay in a new marital bedroom so instead of having some sexy lingerie to change into, Santana had to work with what she had.

Earlier in the day, when Blaine had gone out to a Fertile male community meeting for their housing complex, Santana had taken the seams out of one of her Official-issued nightgowns and went to work on it with her sewing machine. Cutting new lines, removing large portions of fabric and sewing it back up, she'd managed to create as sexy a garment as possible considering the materials she had access to. Using one of the beets from the community garden that she'd visited the day before, she created a dye, changing the drab off-white color to a more enticing red. She was pleasantly surprised that it had time to dry before she slipped in on, shaking her head and smiling, impressed with her own genius. If this didn't turn Blaine on, she wasn't sure what would.

She waited somewhat impatiently on the edge of the bed for Blaine to finish cleaning and join her. It wasn't that she necessarily wanted to have sex with him, but seeing that it was inevitable, she was ready to just get it over and done with.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally heard his footsteps padding gently toward her. She quickly repositioned herself so that she was lying down on the bed on her side, legs curled slightly inward with her hand propping her head up. She tried to put on her most seductive expression as the doorknob turned and Blaine pushed the door in slowly.

Neither spoke for a moment. Santana tried not to notice how terrified Blaine looked and Blaine tried not to show through his expression how intimidated and scared he was of the girl in front of him.

"Santana," he said after the initial shock wore off. "You look…fantastic."

"Thanks," she answered, rolling up into a sitting position. "Why don't you join me over here?"

The whole thing sounded so cheesy and rehearsed, because it was, but somehow it worked, and Blaine walked over to her and sat down on the bed next to her. When it became obvious that she would have to make the first move, she leaned in and kissed him, softly at first until he responded. After a few moments, she chanced to take the kiss deeper, opening her mouth and encouraging Blaine to do the same with her tongue. He obliged somewhat awkwardly and Santana assumed that since she had no idea what she was doing, Blaine was probably in the same boat.

They kissed for a few minutes, not progressing any further. Finally Santana blindly reached down and grabbed one of Blaine's hands, moving it to her breast and leaving it there. He squeezed tentatively and Santana moaned slightly into his mouth. This wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Yeah, it wasn't exactly her idea of sexy times, but it wasn't completely revolting either. She decided to make a move of her own. Leaning into him slightly and guiding them down to the bed so that they were lying down, Santana began to move her hand south, traveling down Blaine's body slowly before sliding it underneath his pants and the elastic of his underwear.

"No!" Blaine pulled away quickly, startling the crap out of Santana. He quickly scrambled off the bed and backed away from it until he hit the wall.

"What the hell, Blaine?" Santana asked, sitting up and adjusting the bra portion of her nightgown creation. "What's the matter?"

Blaine looked like a deer in headlights, panting heavily. It took him a few moments to compose himself enough to speak.

"God, I am so sorry, Santana," he apologized breathlessly. The color was rising quickly and intensely up from his collar to his face and even Santana could see how humiliated he was.

"Here," Santana said, scooting over. Something was really wrong with him. "Come sit down."

Blaine obliged and with shaky steps, walked back over to the bed and lowered himself onto the edge.

"I'm just," he started again without prompting from Santana. "I just don't think I'm ready for this yet."

Santana was speechless. Of all the possible outcomes of this night that played through her head, this was not one of them. Neither of them spoke, giving time for Santana to think. All of the sudden, something clicked in her mind, allowing all the pieces to fall into place.

"Blaine," she spoke quietly, not sure what kind of reaction her words would trigger. "Are you…are you gay?"

"No," he answered immediately voice heavily laden with defense or disgust, Santana couldn't tell which. "No, no, no. I'm just nervous. I've never done this before, it doesn't mean I'm…"

_He can't even say it,_ Santana thought to herself, and the old adage 'actions speak louder than words' had never made more sense to her.

"I'm sorry," she said, decided to play along. "I guess I'm just a little embarrassed that you don't find me attractive."

"That's not it at all," Blaine assured, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. "You are beautiful, I just need some more time. I-is that okay?"

"Yeah," Santana nodded. "Yeah, sure. Do you, I don't know, do you just want to go to bed and we can talk about it more in the morning?"

"Okay," Blaine agreed, looking more relieved than ever. It was still early in the evening, but after that strange experience, neither of them felt like sitting up and talking things through.

After taking turns in the bathroom, brushing their teeth and both changing into more appropriate nightwear, they climbed into bed, keeping their distance from each other as awkward silence hung heavy in the air. Santana's mind was racing with the new developments that were causing her to rethink her entire plan of action.

One thing she knew for sure. As soon as the sun came up the next day, she was going to find Kurt on his rounds. More than ever, she needed a partner in crime, and she crossed her fingers that Kurt would be up for the job.


	7. Chapter 7

Santana was already on the front step when the sun came up the next morning, waiting for Kurt to cross by on what had become his daily route. She was impatient when she discovered he was running a few minutes later than he had the previous days and fought hard to remain calm and quiet. She didn't want to wake Blaine up, after all.

Finally, she heard Kurt's humming and within a few seconds he was rounding the corner on the path that cut between her dwelling and the one next door. Scrambling to her feet, she tried to get his attention.

"Kurt!" she hissed, urgent but barely above a whisper. He had already been intending to stop by, so the theatrics were unnecessary.

"Hey," he called out loudly as he started to walk in her direction.

"Shh! Shut up!" she responded through gritted teeth. Kurt stopped in his tracks, although by that point he was already standing in front of her house on the path.

"What's your problem?" he asked, sounding offended, but lowering his voice to a whisper nonetheless.

"Come here," she instructed and Kurt obliged, joining her on the small porch. "I need to talk to you but I don't want to wake Blaine up. It's important."

"Oh my God," Kurt said, eyes growing wide. "Did you…? You did, didn't you? You guys—"

"No," Santana cut him off. "I tried, but he…he didn't want to."

"Well that's…not at all what I expected you to say." Kurt said, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah, you should have been there," Santana responded, not realizing what she said until Kurt started giggling. "Shut up, you know what I meant."

"Okay," Kurt started after regaining control of himself. "So, not that I mind this little chat, but why are you telling me this and why are we being so secretive about it?"

"Well, here's the thing," Santana whispered, leaning in closer to Kurt. "He's gay."

"He is?"

"And you're gay."

"I am? Wait, yeah, I am, but how did you know?"

Santana just stared at him.

"Kurt, please. Half of the time when you open your mouth to speak I expect a little purse to fall out."

Kurt turned away from him and focused his gaze onto the lawn in front of them.

"Huh," he said, nodding his head a bit. "That obvious, huh?"

"I heard you came out of your mother's vag in a cloud of glitter."

"Okay, okay, I get it, I'm super gay and you noticed, congratulations," Kurt said, slightly annoyed. "But what makes you think Blaine is gay?"

"Shh! For Christ's sake, Kurt, will you keep it down?" Santana hissed at him. Kurt rolled his eyes and waited impatiently for her to answer.

"Well, for one thing he didn't want a taste of this," she explained, motioning to her body.

"Wait, so just because he wasn't ready to sleep with you, that automatically means he's gay?"

"Come on, Kurt, have you met me? I'm irresistible."

"Not if you're gay," Kurt answered quickly without thinking it through.

"Exactly!" Santana answered excitedly. She punched him in the arm, earning her a death glare from Kurt. "Besides, I totally called him out on it."

"And he admitted it?" Kurt asked, sitting up a bit straighter.

"Of course not, are you kidding me?"

Kurt slumped back and sighed heavily.

"It's like two steps forward, one step back talking to you, you know that?" he replied. "Is this going somewhere? Because if it isn't, I really have some work to do. Those pansies aren't going to water themselves."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that, but I reserve the right to recall it at a later date," Santana answered. "Okay, so here's what I'm getting at. I need your help with something."

"Three years later, we finally get to the point."

"Please, I'm being serious," Santana said softly. "If I tell you something, will you promise to keep it a secret?"

Kurt contemplated his friend for a moment. Yeah, she could be a real bitch, but it took a lot for her to ask for help and he didn't want to take advantage of that.

"Yeah, of course," he answered.

"I'm getting out of here with Marina."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, but the heavy stone that landed in the pit of his stomach told him he already knew the answer.

"I'm escaping," she explained, lowering her voice even further. "I'm escaping the community and I'm taking Marina with me."

"San, you can't be serious," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice from shaking with the sudden nervousness that threatened to overwhelm him. He'd heard of people being punished just for talking about leaving, not to mention what happened when someone acted on it.

"I am serious," Santana answered angrily, tears burning her eyes. "You know what? Forget it, I can do it on my own."

She started to stand up, but Kurt shot out an arm and pulled her back down.

"Look, I'm sorry," Kurt apologized quickly. "You just caught me off guard."

He looked deep into her eyes. He could tell she was serious, he knew even when he'd questioned her on it. The last thing he was going to do was let her try some harebrained plan of escape, though. He cared about her too much for that. So he decided he'd play along, do his best to keep her out of any real danger until she finally realized that this was life now and there was nothing that could be done about it.

"So will you help me?" Santana asked, looking Kurt deep in the eyes.

"Yeah," he answered shakily. "What do you need me to do?"

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Blaine lied in bed wide awake, long after he surreptitiously watched Santana climb out of the bed. He was still humiliated about what had happened the night before and hadn't slept much at all. Why couldn't he do what just about every guy his age was dying to do? He'd been on that stage less than a week ago. He could tell by the wistful looks in his fellow Fertile males' eyes that he'd walked away with the grand prize. Santana was beautiful.

But that was the beginning and end of it. She was beautiful, but she wasn't sexy, not to Blaine anyway. She wasn't seductive and she wasn't who he wanted to sleep with.

She wasn't Kurt.

Blaine quickly drew a fist to his own chest and punched it as hard as he could, wincing from the impact and relishing the pain all at once. You have to stop thinking about him, he thought to himself, punching himself with as much strength as he could muster with each word. The spot was already sore and he knew there would be an ugly bruise.

Good, he thought again, satisfied. You deserve it.

He spent the next hour or so trying to convince himself that his thoughts about Kurt weren't really about Kurt at all. They had to do with him being nervous and projecting his feelings onto something (or someone, as the case may be) safe. It made sense, it wasn't like he'd ever been a situation anything like this before. It was natural to be nervous, and since a relationship with Kurt, a male and an Infertile no less, was the very definition of impossible, it's what his brain focused on to save from having to confront the idea of having sex for the first time.

By the time he could smell eggs and toast being cooked in the kitchen, Blaine had convinced himself of his new theory and was feeling slightly more confident about where he stood with Santana. It was still going to suck to have to confront the awkward situation of the night before, but he was determined to work it out and try again that evening.

This time, there would be no stopping. No matter how uncomfortable he felt, he was bound and determined to take this step with Santana, and no thoughts about Kurt were going to stop him this time.

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Kurt had an extremely difficult time focusing on his daily tasks once he left Santana's house. He was still disturbed by the fact that she not only thought she had a shot at escaping, but that she fully intended to do it, and soon. He felt terrible sympathy for her, and the urgency with which she explained the rudimentary first steps of her plan. He knew how much she cared about her little sister, how much she wanted to save Marina from an awful fate. But didn't she know how impossible it all was.

"You don't understand," Santana told him when he'd given one last shot at trying to reason with her. "It's different for a girl, especially a Fertile. It's rape, Kurt."

He'd flinched when she said that. It was an ugly way to put it, but she was absolutely right. Female Fertiles were forced to engage in sexual relationships with someone not of their own choosing. She didn't have to clarify it any more to him. That one simple sentence conveyed the hurt, disgust and violation that Santana had felt when she found out what her fate was, and it made complete sense to Kurt why she wanted to save her little sister from the same.

He still thought it was crazy, and he was terrified to even be discussing it with her, but he prided himself in being a good friend. In this world, a good, trustworthy friend was worth more than just about anything and he was determined to be there for her.

As he played their conversation over and over in his head, he tried his best to figure out a way to make her plan more plausible. If she went just off of the shaky outline of a plan she had now, she'd be caught and killed within a matter of days. If she was serious about doing this, he was at least going to make sure she had the best shot possible.

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Santana heard the bedroom door open from where she stood in the kitchen and took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever conversation was about to take place. She was just finishing the plates and placing them on the counter when Blaine, looking somewhat bashful, shuffled in.

"Hey," she greeted simply, waiting for him to guide the conversation.

"Good morning," he answered, pulling out his chair and taking a seat.

"Eggs and toast okay? I can cut up some fruit too, if you want."

"No, this looks great, thank you," Blaine answered. He realized that he was going to have to be the one to bring up the incident from the night before, and although he wasn't looking forward to it, he knew that it had to happen and he might as well get it over and done with.

"Listen, about what happened last night," he started once Santana had taken her seat. She'd lifted her fork to begin eating, but placed it back down next to her plate and listened attentively.

"I'm really sorry, and I'm not sure what happened, but I think I was just really nervous about the whole thing," Blaine explained, wishing he could interpret the look on Santana's face. "I was thinking, if you don't mind of course, that maybe we could try again tonight?"

Santana inhaled deeply. She'd been anticipating this, but secretly hoping it wouldn't happen. She was endlessly grateful that she'd worked out the first step of her plan with Kurt that morning and even more grateful that he'd agreed to help.

"Of course, Blaine," she finally answered, noticing the way Blaine's shoulders sagged slightly with relief. "It's okay, you know? I'm sure it happens to a lot of guys. I mean, I wasn't ready for the first few days, so why should I expect you to be?"

"Thanks for…understanding," Blaine said, struggling to find the right words. He still felt embarrassed, but he was glad that Santana seemed to be taking it so well and not making him feel even worse than he already did.

They ate their breakfast in silence, both of them paying more attention to the racing thoughts in their own minds than in each other. Blaine still trying desperately to convince himself that he was looking forward to sleeping with Santana that evening, and Santana hoping and praying that Kurt would come through for her that afternoon.

If all went according to her plan, then she wouldn't have to worry about sleeping with Blaine that evening. She realized that she was placing more trust in Kurt than she'd ever placed in anyone before in her life, even prior to the outbreak, but she didn't really have another option. It was either place all of her eggs into this one basket, or forget the whole thing altogether.

_Kurt will come through,_ Santana told herself as she finished her breakfast. _He has to._


	8. Chapter 8

To say that Kurt was nervous about Santana's request was an understatement. In reality, Kurt was terrified, but not for the reasons he would expect. After he left Santana's house, he went about his daily chores, and thankfully it was Friday, which meant he performed a lot of the once-a-week tasks which kept him somewhat occupied. All throughout the day, however, he kept replaying his conversation with Santana.

"I'm not asking you to sleep with him."

"Well thank the great spaghetti monster in the sky for small favors," Kurt responded sarcastically, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face from his neck.

"Oh please," Santana retorted, sounding exasperated. "You would love that. You totally have the hots for him and you know it."

"I do not!" Kurt exclaimed. "And keep it down, will you?"

"Whatever you say," Santana dismissed playfully, but she knew she was right. She hadn't missed the look that passed between her best friend and her new spouse that first day on the porch after Kurt finished singing to her. Pure, sexual attraction. In fact, she was pissed at herself for not figuring out Blaine's preference earlier. It would have saved them both a great deal of awkwardness.

"Anyway, what do you want me to do?" Kurt asked quietly.

Santana wasn't quite sure what she wanted him to do, she just knew she needed his help.

"You don't even know, do you?" Kurt asked skeptically, as if reading her mind.

"Kurt, I'm just…" Santana closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "I'm kind of panicking right now and so, no I don't know what to do, but you've got to help me."

"Okay," Kurt answered, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Let's just think for a sec."

The two sat in silence as they both let their minds work through separate plans and possible outcomes.

"Okay," Santana finally sighed. "I think we should just take this one day at a time for now, you know, test the waters and see where things go. We may be overthinking this. I mean, maybe Blaine wants out too—"

"Santana."

"I said maybe," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "Kurt, I really appreciate you helping me with this."

"Well, just for the record," Kurt started. "I think this is an insanely bad idea that has no hope of working. However, I'm not about to let you go at it alone. If you want to escape, I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

"Don't you want out too?" she asked with an almost desperate edge in her voice. "Kurt, this can't be the life you want to lead. I mean, you're practically a slave and you're never going to even have a shot at love, arranged or otherwise."

"I mean, yeah, it sucks, but I have no idea how to live outside of the community. Our families are dead, who knows if our homes still exist, we have no survival training—"

"I firmly believe," Santana cut him off. "That a strong will to live can overcome all of those things."

Kurt was taken aback by the fierce determination in her eyes. It was at that moment that Kurt decided that Santana was going to make it, and for the first time, he allowed himself to imagine what it might be like to follow.

"Just think about it, okay? Promise?" Santana asked him quietly, not missing the thoughtful expression on Kurt's face. He nodded and they quickly changed the topic back to the immediate task at hand.

It was decided that Kurt would find an excuse to stop by that afternoon when Santana was down at the community garden. He would just talk to Blaine, try to develop some sort of bond with him. Neither one of them was overly concerned that Blaine was going to attempt to sleep with Santana again that night, but she held onto her resolve from the night before. If it needed to happen to further their goals, she'd take that bullet.

They arranged a time to meet up afterwards by the garden so Kurt could tell her everything that happened and then he left to attend to his tasks while she went inside to cook breakfast for Blaine and herself.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Kurt found himself finally walking the path back to Santana's house at the time she told him she'd be out. He'd gone over his excuse for coming over a million times and he just hoped he would get it right when it came time to lay it out.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up the two steps onto the tiny porch and knocked on the door with as much confidence as he could muster. Within a few seconds, he heard footsteps from inside making their way to the door.

Kurt took in Blaine's surprised look as he opened the door, clearly not expecting Kurt to be on the other side.

"Blaine? Hi, it's Kurt, we met the other day." Kurt did his best to keep his voice level as he spoke, but judging from the look on Blaine's face, he was having enough trouble keeping his own nerves in check.

"Yeah, Kurt," Blaine finally answered after a few awkward seconds. "I remember. Um, Santana's actually out right now, but I um, I could tell her you stopped by, if—"

"Actually, I ran into her a few minutes ago at the garden," Kurt interrupted, preparing to launch into his excuse for being there. "She mentioned that she saw a few ants in the kitchen and wanted me to come check the situation out. I guess in addition to being the gardener, I'm also pest control."

Kurt chuckled nervously, but that part was true. He was expected to handle everything from watering plants to killing bugs to unclogging backed up toilets.

"Oh, that's weird. I haven't seen any—"

"She said something about them being under the sink?" Kurt answered, sounding more rushed than he intended. "Do you mind if I just come in and take a look?"

Kurt would have thought he'd just asked for a blowjob based on the look he got from Blaine. Finally, he composed himself enough to give Kurt an answer. Kurt couldn't help but wonder why the other boy seemed so nervous.

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Blaine stuttered, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow Kurt in.

Kurt drew in his surroundings as he entered the house. It was small and sparsely decorated, but it was a mansion compared to his cubby hole back at the Infertile barracks, as Kurt referred to them. He came to a stop, allowing Blaine to point him in the direction of the kitchen. Once there, Kurt opened up the cabinet below the sink and crouched down to look.

Blaine tried to stop himself, but he couldn't resist sneaking a glance at Kurt as he bent down. Kneeling, he'd hunched his shoulders and head down so that his ass was in the air. His perfect, lean, muscular ass—

Before he knew what he was doing, he brought his fist to his chest and landed it with a strong thud. Not expecting the pain that followed from his previous actions that morning, he let out a small cry of shock and pain.

Kurt was startled by the noise and lifted his head quickly, knocking it on the underside of the heavy porcelain sink above him. He scrambled out quickly and turned around.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked him, standing up quickly.

"Yeah, sorry, I…Kurt? Whoa, Kurt!"

Blaine barely had enough time to reach Kurt and steady him before he went crashing to the ground. He lowered Kurt to the ground slowly, sitting along with him and leaning Kurt's back against the cabinet door.

"Ohh…" Kurt mumbled, feeling very disoriented. "Sorry, just got a little dizzy there."

"You hit your head pretty hard," Blaine said, feeling completely stupid for being the reason Kurt hurt himself in the first place. "Do you feel okay now?"

"I'll be fine," Kurt replied, wincing as pain began to overwhelm the lightheadedness. "Just need a minute."

Kurt closed his eyes and leaned his head back gingerly against the cabinet, realizing but not caring that Blaine, who was almost a complete stranger was watching him.

"Can I get you some ice? Or maybe you need to lie down for a little while?" Kurt wanted to smile at how hard Blaine was trying, but it seemed like any small movement, especially in the face and head area would be excruciating.

"I'm pretty sure naps are forbidden on the job," Kurt teased quietly. "But an ice pack sounds nice."

Kurt heard, rather than saw, Blaine get up from where he was sitting and go over to the freezer to pull out the ice cube trays. He could tell that Blaine was taking pains not to make too much unnecessary noise and Kurt was eternally grateful. Within a few minutes, Blaine was back sitting on the floor next to Kurt and gently pressing the ice wrapped in a kitchen towel to the back of Kurt's head. Kurt reached up to reposition it slightly and found his own hand covering Blaine's.

Blaine sat in shock for a few seconds, hand stuck between the ice and Kurt's own hand. The feeling of his hand canvassing his own was unlike anything Blaine had ever experienced. It was perfection. Finally he was jolted to his senses and gingerly removed his hand and allowed Kurt's to take over.

"You have quite a bump there," he said lamely. "I-I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault," Kurt said, squinting his right eye open to give Blaine a reassuring glance. "Really, I'm just a little jumpy. Always have been."

"I still feel really bad," Blaine answered. "I want to make it up to you somehow."

Kurt laughed to himself in his mind. As awkward and off-plan as it was, he had accomplished what he'd set out to do earlier that morning after talking to Santana.

"Will you just sit with me here for a while until it stops hurting a bit? Maybe we can talk. After all, you are married to my best friend."

"Yeah," Blaine said, sounding relieved and nervous at the same time. "So, about that, how long have you and Santana been friends?"

"Well," Kurt began, adjusting the ice back slightly. "I guess we weren't always super close. We went to elementary school together and when I found out we were going to be living in the same housing complex, I made an effort to seek her out. It's hard to get really close to people these days, you know? I mean, I had friends in the dormitory, but we all knew things were going to change once we graduated."

Blaine nodded wordlessly. He had some friends in his dorm, but they'd all been scattered to different housing complexes and he doubted he'd see any of them again, with the exception of community gatherings like graduations and, unfortunately, public punishments and executions.

"Anyway," Kurt continued. "Santana is really special. One of a kind. But I'm sure you've already figured that out."

"Yeah," Blaine laughed. "You can say that again."

"So tell me a little bit about yourself," Kurt spoke up after a few moments of silence. He found himself forgetting the real reason he was there and genuinely wanting to know more about the boy beside him.

"Well, I'm originally from Westerville, and…I guess that's all there is to say about me."

Blaine felt awkward not having more to say about himself, but really, what else was there? There was no point in talking about all the things he'd lost in the outbreak, because there was no doubt that Kurt came from the same horrible circumstances. Kurt seemed to understand and didn't press him further.

"That song that you were singing the other day," Blaine said, changing topics. "It was really…really nice. You have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you," Kurt answered, feeling himself blush. "I haven't sung in a long time. It felt good. The only time I've sung since the outbreak was for Santana when our dormitories had meet-ups. She was the only one who knew I liked to sing when we were younger."

"I like to sing too," Blaine said, starting to blush himself. "I don't do it often, only a few seconds here and there, but it was really nice to hear a whole song after all these years."

"I bet you have a beautiful voice," Kurt spoke honestly, lowering the icepack from his head. For the first time, he realized just how closely he and Blaine were sitting next to one another.

"It's nothing compared to yours," Blaine whispered, not breaking eye contact with Kurt's hypnotic gaze. He could feel his heart pounding so hard against his chest that he thought it was going to burst right out.

Before he knew what he was doing, Blaine leaned in slowly and captured Kurt's lips in his own. It was unlike anything Blaine had ever experienced. Kurt's soft, urgent lips were sheer heaven to Blaine and all he could think about was how amazing it felt to be kissing Kurt and to have him kissing back with just as much urgency and desire.

Kurt was completely taken by surprise when Blaine leaned in, but he welcomed the contact immediately. He may have been able to convince himself before that he didn't have any attraction toward Blaine, but not now.

Finally, after a few blissful minutes, Blaine pulled back and looked Kurt in the eyes.

"Wow," he said breathlessly.

"Yeah," Kurt answered, subconsciously raising his hand to the bump on his head. "I um, I probably should get going."

"Oh, okay," Blaine answered, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. Maybe he'd misinterpreted Kurt's reaction. Maybe he'd made Kurt uncomfortable.

Kurt started to climb gingerly to his feet, wincing slightly as the pain pulsated on the top of his head.

"Are you, are you sure you're okay to go?"

"I'm fine," Kurt assured. "And um, Santana must be crazy, I didn't see any ants."

Kurt didn't wait for a response as he made his way for the door. He wasn't sure why, but he needed to get out of there and quick.

Blaine stood helpless as he watched Kurt leave, trying to keep his composure. He was convinced he'd made a big mistake and was terrified not only that he'd offended Kurt, but that Kurt would report him to the Officials. What the hell had he been thinking? Blaine tried his best to keep himself calm and not think about the potential consequences of what he'd done.

In the end though, his overwhelming thought was that he would do it again in a heartbeat and maybe he'd get the chance to find out if Kurt felt the same.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt's head was pounding and he still felt a bit dizzy as he made his way down the path away from Santana and Blaine's house, but he needed to get out of there as fast as he could. He felt like he was suffocating as he rounded the corner of their house. The community garden was only a short walk away, but Kurt didn't think he could make it without taking a break to calm himself down. Walking off the path to the side of the house, he sat down heavily, leaning his back against the west wall of the building.

Shutting his eyes, he did his best to calm himself, realizing that if he didn't, he would have a panic attack. He hadn't had one in a really long time, not since the early days after the outbreak, but he remembered the signs and symptoms quite well. Even though it felt like his throat was closing up and his heart was going to explode, he focused his mind on breathing slowly and though he was never quite sure why it helped, he ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it gently to the side. It was something his mom did when he was little and she was trying to help him sleep at night and even when he did it to himself, it always seemed to do the trick.

After about ten minutes, Kurt finally felt calm enough to continue his journey to meet up with Santana at the garden. He hadn't even started to process everything he was feeling and thinking after Blaine kissed him. As the thoughts started to creep back into his mind, he shoved them out, trying his best not to think about them until he was with Santana. If he was thrown into another panic attack, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get through it alone.

He walked at a moderate pace, slower than he usually would, but fast enough to satisfy his urge to get to his friend as soon as possible. His head still felt like it was going to explode, but he intended to go to the housing complex clinic after leaving Santana.

Within five minutes, he arrived at the garden and saw Santana sitting on a bench with her canvas bag full of vegetables, waiting for Kurt. When she saw him, she stood up expectantly with a look on her face that expressed to Kurt that she was hoping for good news. Kurt had no idea how to classify the news he had for her, but she'd find out for herself soon enough.

Without a word, Kurt came and sat down on the bench in the space to the left of Santana. She seemed confused, but sat back down as well, turning slightly to face him.

"So?" she asked impatiently. "How did it go?"

"Well, you don't have any ants in your kitchen," Kurt answered, realizing for the first time since he left the house that he actually had no desire to discuss what happened with her or anyone else. He knew he'd have to though and eventually he'd have to talk to Blaine about it too, he owed him that much.

"Cut the crap, Kurt," Santana said, with a more aggressive edge to her tone. "What happened?"

"Well, I went to the house with the excuse that we talked about," Kurt started, staring down at his hands, unable to make eye contact with Santana. "He let me in and I went to the kitchen to look for ants under the sink and while I was down there, Blaine surprised me and I bumped my head really hard on the sink."

"Oh my God," Santana answered, laughing. She'd always been the type of person to laugh at someone when they fell down before she thought to ask if they were okay.

"It's not funny, I almost passed out," Kurt said defensively. He leaned his head over and placed his hand gingerly on the knot to show her and when she traced her fingers over it, she gasped.

"Holy shit, Kurt, that's huge," she spoke, no longer laughing. "Are you okay?"

"Thanks for finally asking," Kurt muttered. "I'm fine, I'm going to the clinic after I'm done here."

"So what, you hit your head, got dizzy and then you left?"

"Not quite." Kurt sighed heavily. He dreaded the next part, but she was going to get it out of him one way or another.

"When I got dizzy and almost hit the floor, Blaine rushed over and caught me. He helped me down to the ground, made me an ice pack and then we talked for a little bit, and then…"

"And then what?" Santana asked, growing impatient again.

"And then he, um…and then he kissed me."

"He—He kissed you? Not the other way around?" Santana looked incredulously. Kurt tried not to be offended.

"Yeah, he kissed me," Kurt replied. "What, do I look like the type of person who just goes around kissing people who may or may not be gay, let alone want me to kiss them?"

"Well, no, I guess not," Santana answered, seemingly confused about why Kurt was acting offended. "But, come on, this is great! It means I was right and my plan is going to work."

It was Kurt's turn to be incredulous. He couldn't believe how she was responding.

"Yeah, well maybe it wasn't so great for me," he said angrily, standing up from the bench. Before he could leave though, Santana caught him by the arm.

"Wait, what are talking about?" she asked.

"What, you think just because I'm gay I want someone kissing me without even asking me first? That was my first kiss, Santana. It would have been nice to have some input."

"Can I ask you a question without you getting upset?" Santana asked. Kurt eyed her defensively, but decided to give her a shot. It wasn't like he had anyone else to confide in. He sat back down next to her on the bench and waited expectantly.

"Did you kiss him back?"

"Yes, but—"

"Kurt," she said gently. "It's okay. It was probably just happening really fast, too fast to process right?"

"Yeah," Kurt answered, allowing himself to feel just a little bit of relief and justification. "It was nice, actually. I just….the more I think about it, the more out of control I feel. I mean, what if he decides he regrets doing it and reports to the Officials that I came on to him? I'm an Infertile, Santana. I'm nothing to them. But he's probably going to be an Official someday himself, so I think I've got the losing hand here. What if…what if he turns me in?"

Both Santana and Kurt were well aware of what happened to those in situations like Kurt's and Blaine's in the New Reality. Punishment was similar to that of those who tried to escape, and Kurt was right. Infertiles meant next to nothing to the Officials. They were easily replaceable and they did nothing to help the repopulation effort. Santana could see why Kurt would be terrified.

"Blaine wouldn't do that—"

"How do you know?" Kurt cut her off, his panic level beginning to rise again. "You've known him for a week. How do you know he wouldn't do that?"

"It'll be okay," Santana soothed. "I'll handle it, you'll be fine, I promise."

Santana wasn't actually sure of anything. Yeah, her original idea had involved Kurt seducing Blaine, but she hadn't quite thought through the consequences of what might happened if Blaine regretted getting involved with Kurt. He did have the upper hand, and Kurt would be toast in a head to head against him in front of the Officials. _Shit,_ she thought to herself, _what the hell did I get him into?_

Santana was torn away from her thoughts by the sound of Kurt wheezing, struggling for air.

"Kurt? Are you okay?" she asked, placing a hand on his back. He looked at her with wide, terrified eyes as he continued to try to get air. It sounded to her like his throat was closing up. He didn't respond to her, except to bring one hand to his throat while the other squeezed his knee so hard his knuckles were white.

"Oh my God, Kurt," she muttered, trying to think of what to do to help him. It was obvious that he'd worked himself up into a panic attack. In the early days of the outbreak and for a couple of years after that, they were common amongst the survivors. She'd never had one herself, but she'd help Marina through a number of them.

"Okay, just breathe, Kurt. I know it feels like you're going to die, but you're not, you're going to be just fine. Focus on my eyes and slowly breathe in. Slower, Kurt. Now breathe out and keep your eyes on me."

Santana was stroking the back of his neck with one hand and used her other to remove his hand from his neck and held it, squeezing lightly. He was squeezing back so hard she thought he might break it, but within a few minutes, his grip loosened and his breathing started to become more normal. Santana continued to speak soothingly to him, saying whatever she thought might help calm him down.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked, once Kurt was breathing without any difficulty. He nodded slightly, looking worn out.

"My head's just pounding now," he said, wincing in time with his pulse beats.

"Let me help you to the clinic," Santana offered, but Kurt shook his head.

"No," he answered. "I don't want you any more mixed up in this than you already are. I'll be fine to get there on my own."

"Like hell you will," Santana countered firmly. "I won't have you passing out halfway there because you wouldn't take my help. Now it's my fault that you're in this mess in the first place, so let me help you out of it."

"Fine," Kurt relented out of sheer exhaustion. Santana helped him up and they made their way to the clinic on the north side of the compound. Once they were within sight of the building, Kurt convinced Santana to let him go the rest of the way by himself so that it didn't look suspicious with her helping him in. She relented only because she knew she could watch him the rest of the way in.

As he stumbled down the path in front of her, Santana's heart broke just a little. She was determined to get of the community by nearly any means necessary, but she'd put Kurt's life at risk and that wasn't something she ever imagined she'd do. She was determined to fix it, though, and she wouldn't rest until she knew that she had.

Once Kurt was safely inside, she turned back around and began making her way back to the house to confront Blaine.


	10. Chapter 10

The entire way back to her house from the clinic, Santana mulled over how she would approach Blaine when she got there. Intimidation was her strong suit, but would it work with Blaine? Kurt was right, she'd only known him for a week, but Blaine just seemed so…easy to manipulate. She had the upper hand of knowing his secret now, but what if it sent him of the deep end when she confronted him with it? She could try approaching it from a sympathetic angle, agreeing to keep his secret and continue on with him to gain his trust.

She knew she'd never out him to the Officials, no matter how bad things got, but would keeping that card in her hand when she talked to Blaine be beneficial? Fear combined with intimidation almost always got Santana what she wanted in the dormitory, but this was a whole new playing field and the stakes were infinitely higher.

Eventually she decided to keep several different strategies floating around in her head and pick the best one based on how Blaine was responding. Playing it by ear had never been Santana's modus operandi; she much preferred the calculated, mapped out manipulative and persuasive nature of her interactions with others, but Kurt's well-being was on the line and she didn't want to screw that up by being stubbornly stuck to one way of going about things.

Reaching the front door, she took a deep breath and tried to wipe all the emotions from her face. She decided her first step would be to just come in like nothing was wrong and wait to see if Blaine owned up to anything. If he didn't, well, she'd just have to go from there.

"I'm home," she called out as she stepped through the doorway. She walked the short distance to the kitchen to drop her vegetable tote on the counter. She looked out across the living room, but didn't see Blaine.

Where the hell was he? Santana started to panic.

"Blaine?" she yelled, trying not to sound worried. What if he'd left here after Kurt to go speak with the Officials? _Oh shit, shit shit,_ she thought. _What if I'm too late?_

Just as Santana was about to launch into a panic attack herself, the bedroom door creaked open and Blaine stepped out dressed in different clothes from the morning, hair wet, obviously straight from the shower.

_Wanky,_ Santana thought, despite the fact that two seconds before she'd been freaking out about Kurt's impending doom.

"Is everything okay?" Blaine asked, eyes wide. He'd heard such an urgency in Santana's voice when she called his name that he forewent his usual after-shower hair grooming.

"Yeah, I just…so, um," Santana stumbled, unable to figure out a segue to get to where she wanted to be in the conversation. "Did Kurt stop by? About the ants?"

"Kurt?" Blaine looked like a deer in headlights. "Yeah, he uh, no um, no ants. He didn't see any ants, so…"

Santana just stared at him, this was the most awkward conversation she'd ever been a part of and she didn't imagine it was going to get much better from here. She decided to take the plunge and just start digging for information.

"So did you guys talk about anything? You know, while he was looking for ants?"

"Yeah, we talked a bit," Blaine started, trying to sound casual. "He kind of banged his head under the sink, so I let him rest here for a little while."

"Oh," Santana answered. "So that was it? He left after that?"

"Yeah," Blaine answered, furrowing his brow. "That's about it."

Now Santana was pissed. She'd given him the opportunity to be honest with her and he denied kissing Kurt. Forcing himself on Kurt really. Even if Kurt admitted that he liked it and he kissed back, Blaine still hadn't asked first and he had to have assumed that Kurt had never been kissed before and he made that decision for Kurt. The more Santana thought about it, the more angry and protective she grew.

"Cut the shit, Blaine," Santana fumed, stalking over to Blaine so that she was directly in front of him. He started stumbling backwards and she followed until his back hit the wall in the living room and Santana was right in his face.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, even though he'd figured out by now exactly what she meant.

"Why are you lying to me?" Santana poked him angrily in the chest, right in the middle of his bruise, causing him to wince. "I know you kissed Kurt, and I know you did it without even talking to him about it first. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I, I—"

"You, you what, Blaine? You thought that Kurt was attractive and you just decided to go for it? Do you realize how terrified he is right now? He thinks you're going to go report him to the Officials. _Him._ Even though it was _your_ choice to kiss him, not the other way around."

"I would never do that," Blaine answered solidly, voice rising slightly.

"How the hell is he supposed to know that?" Santana countered. "All he knows is that he, an Infertile, made out with an Official in training. Who do you think has the upper hand in this situation, Blaine?"

The realization of what Santana was saying hit him like a ton of bricks. No wonder Kurt was terrified. He was absolutely right. Blaine could go to the Officials, tell them what happened and within ten minutes, Kurt would be dragged to the community commons for punishment. Blaine's heart felt like it was breaking when he thought about what Kurt was going through because of Blaine's selfish, impulsive behavior.

"I'm talking to you, Blaine!" Santana shouted, mistaking his silence for apathy.

"I would never do that," Blaine repeated. "I'll fix this, I'll go talk to him."

"Right now?" Santana asked incredulously as Blaine moved past her and headed toward the door. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Blaine stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her. Santana could see the desperation in his face.

"Well for one thing, it would look a little suspicious for you to be roaming around the Infertile Male lodging," Santana answered. "And secondly, I'm not sure if he's back from the clinic yet."

"The clinic? Because of his head?" The genuine worry in Blaine's words gave Santana a little comfort.

"Yeah," she answered, casting her eyes downward. "And he had a panic attack with me in the garden."

"Because of me," Blaine surmised, trying to keep the tears from gathering in his eyes. "Because I made him feel like his life was at risk."

Santana looked at him, nodding slowly. There was no point in trying to deny it at this point. Plus, even though she was starting to feel some real sympathy for Blaine in this situation, it was definitely beneficial to both her and Kurt that Blaine was reacting this way.

"What the hell did I do?" Blaine groaned, allowing himself to slide down the wall into a sitting position with his knees drawn up. Santana sighed and got down to sit across from him, cross-legged.

"It'll be okay," Santana answered, switching strategies again. "Look, he just needs to know that no matter what, you're not going to report him for what happened."

"How can I do that if I can't go see him?"

"He'll be back around," Santana assured. "His morning rounds taking him past here every day, so he'll probably be by in the morning if the clinic doesn't keep him over night."

Blaine only nodded in reply.

"Blaine," Santana ventured after a few moments of silence. "Why did you kiss him?"

"I…I don't know."

"Yes you do, Blaine. And I do too, but you need to say it."

"I don't—"

"Blaine—"

"Because he's perfect," Blaine finally admitted, something flashing momentarily in his eyes that Santana couldn't quite decipher. "From the moment I heard him sing the other day, to when I saw his face for the first time, to earlier today…he's perfect and I just…I just wanted to experience perfection."

Santana had no idea what to say to that. It was Blaine's honest opinion of Kurt and she'd never heard anyone talk about another person that way before.

"I'm sorry for what I did," Blaine continued. "And I'm sorry for how it made him feel afterwards, but Santana, he kissed me back. I know that, at least in the moment, he wanted to kiss me too."

"I think you're right," Santana answered softly. "But you should have talked to him about it first. He'd never been kissed before and even if he kissed you back, he should have been included in the decision."

"I know that now," Blaine admitted, feeling ashamed. "I just want to make it right."

"You will, I know you will, but you just have to be patient," she assured again. "And Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you ready to admit that you're gay?"

Blaine thought about it for a minute.

"I don't know what I am," Blaine finally answered. "Kurt is the first person that I've…you know, been attracted to. I guess I just thought that I was too focused on the recovery efforts to think about girls growing up, but now…now I don't know what I am."

"Well isn't this funny?" Santana laughed lightly, earning her a confused look from Blaine. "I'm gay and you're Kurtsexual and somehow we ended up married."

"Wait, you're gay?"

Santana nodded in confirmation. All of the sudden, Blaine burst out into an uncontrollable laughter and Santana was close behind him. They laughed so hard that neither one of them could properly breathe and before too long, they were both fighting painful stitches in their sides.

The situation wasn't really funny, and they knew that, but so much had happened in the past week and they were beyond overwhelmed. They were young, afraid and had no idea where to go from there, but at least for that moment in time, they were lost in hysterics, able to find humor in a humorless, bleak situation. The hard part was coming and they both knew that, but for now, they just needed to laugh.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Allusions to violence in this chapter. Please try not to hate me...

"Kurt 3 Lima? On your feet, let's go."

Kurt squinted up at the sudden rush of bright light that streamed in through the open door. The tiny cell only had a single, twelve inch square window of thick, bulletproof glass near the top of the outward—facing wall. It was still in the early morning hours, so the room had been very dark before the guard came to release him. Well, release wasn't the right word; Kurt knew there was no hope of that happening.

Kurt slowly climbed his way up from the hard ground. The guards had provided him with a thin mattress, blanket and pillow, but he might as well have had none of it. All three items were too thin and flimsy to really do their jobs.

He'd been held in the cell for nearly a week. Two meals a day, a bucket changed out three times a day for his waste and no hope of escape. Walking down the hallway for the first time since they'd come to arrest him in his room, his legs felt like jelly and it was the only reason he was glad to have a guard at each elbow. He wasn't quite sure he'd make it on his own.

Exiting the building, the guards shoved Kurt roughly into the back of a police cargo van. He thought about clamoring on to one of the benches nailed into the sides, but why bother? The floor was just as comfortable (or uncomfortable) and it saved him the hassle of been thrown repeatedly to the ground when the guard in the driver's seat slammed on the brakes or took a sharp turn, laughing as he did. That had been his experience on the ride over, so he didn't expect any different as they headed to the commons.

The commons. Kurt's final destination. He knew what the various punishments were for gay affairs. Anywhere from public humiliation, Scarlet Letter style, all the way to death. Kurt wasn't sure which end of the spectrum he'd find himself, but the odds were stacked against him.

A week earlier, he'd been laying in his bed asleep in the middle of the night when he was awoken by footsteps barging down the Infertile barrack's hallway. They'd grabbed him roughly out of bed and when Kurt screamed, one of them punched him hard in the mouth. He was startled into silence.

"Kurt 3 Lima," the one who'd assault spoke as they dragged him out, the other Infertiles gathering in their respective doorways to watch. "You are under arrest for the sexual assault of Blaine 2 Westerville, a fertile male, contrary to the laws and the good order of the New Reality."

"But—"

"You are not permitted to speak. If you continue to violate procedure, charges will be added."

Kurt obeyed. He didn't speak again, save for two occasions in the cell when he was spoken to by a guard and a direct answer was required. Now, as he headed to the commons, he wondered if he'd ever get the opportunity to speak again.

As they approached, Kurt could hear the tell-tale sirens, beckoning the citizens to gather in the commons. If there had been windows in the back of the van, Kurt would have seen them funneling obediently into the large area, Fertiles on one side, Infertiles on the other. Santana would be there, forced to stand with Blaine and the thought of that brought tears to Kurt's eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.

All of the sudden, the van slammed to a halt, and since Kurt's hands and feet were shackled together, he had no choice but to topple over from his sitting position and roll until he slammed hard against the metal wall dividing the front from the back. He could hear the guards snickering and felt his own face heat up with embarrassment.

The front doors opened and slammed shut and within a few seconds, the back doors were thrown open wide.

"Move it, Lima," one guard barked, and as it was evident that they weren't going to assist him out of the van, Kurt began scooting his way to the edge. When he finally reached and swung his legs over the side to try to stand up, the other guard grabbed him by the arm and yanked him up, not noticing or caring that Kurt hadn't gained his footing yet. He tripped and slammed to the ground hard, face first, unable to put his bound hands out to break the fall. It took everything within him not to cry out in pain.

"Damn it, Lima, on your feet!" the first guard yelled again, and the two guards hoisted him up. This time Kurt made sure his feet were on solid ground. He could feel bits of gravel in his cheek, but he couldn't reach his face to brush them off and he knew better than to ask one of the guards to do it.

Looking up for the first time, Kurt saw that just about everyone was already gathered. The van had been parked right at the southwest edge of the commons and Kurt was being marched straight to the center where the Officials council sat at the table that was set up there. The guards brought him to the front of the table and dropped their grips, although they remained standing so close to Kurt that their arms brushed up against him.

"Please state your name," the head Official spoke into the microphone in front of him. It was then that Kurt noticed the standing microphone directly in front of himself.

"Kurt 3 Lima, sir."

"Kurt 3 Lima," the Official continued. "You've been charged with sexual assault for pursuing a homosexual, romantic relationship with a fertile male without his consent. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Kurt answered, wishing he could qualify his answer with an explanation of what really happened, but he'd already been warned that he was only allowed yes or no as answers.

"And do you understand that a homosexual relationship, with consent or without is strictly forbidden in our community?"

"Yes."

"And do you further understand that the maximum punishment for such offense is death by firing squad?"

"Y-yes, sir," Kurt answered, his voice wavering for the first time.

"The council has discussed your case at length, and considering the egregious nature of your offense in addition to the fact that your victim is a Fertile while you yourself are an Infertile, the punishment for your destructive and predatory actions has been determined."

Kurt tried to read the Official's facial expression, but it remained stony as he paused before speaking again. Kurt drew in a deep breath and waited.

"Kurt 3 Lima, you are hereby sentenced to death by firing squad, to be carried out immediately. Guards, please obscure his face."

Kurt didn't have time to react before the black sack was thrown over his head and the guards began dragging him backward.

"No," Kurt mumbled quietly, finally finding his voice and gradually increasing his volume as his panic level rose. "No. No! NO!"

This time the guards didn't try to stop him. They let him scream as they tied him to the chair. Someone pinned something on his chest and then they were gone. Kurt was all alone as he continued to scream, unable to hear the murmur of voices in the crowd.

"Guards, stand your mark!"

"No, please—"

"Steady—"

"Please don't, please!"

"Aim—"

"God, please, no!"

"Fire!"

BANG

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kurt shot up from his bed, chest heaving and bathed in a cold sweat. He whipped his gaze around his room, right hand immediately searching his chest for the wound he was sure would be there. When he finally realized it had all been a nightmare, he fell back exhausted in the bed.

It was the third night in a row that he'd dreamt the same thing, only each night, the punishment got progressively worse. The first night, it had been public humiliation. He'd been made to stand on the wooden stage in the center of the commons, holding a sign that listed his crime. The second night it had been lashes. He'd woken the next morning with his back still tingling.

And now…Kurt had to wonder where it would go from there. He'd spent the last three days holed up in his cubby hole. The clinic had advised him to take three days off from work to allow the knot on his head to heal. Now he was going to have to go back to work and he was terrified.

He hadn't heard from Santana or Blaine, but then again, he hadn't expected to. It wasn't like they could just mosey on over to the Infertile barracks and have a chat, it would be too suspicious.

Every sound that came from outside his room caused him to jump and whenever one of the other Infertiles returned to their room, he was convinced the footsteps were those of the guards, coming to cart him away. He couldn't eat, and with the exception of the two or three nightmare-filled hours he got each night, he couldn't sleep either.

Now he was dragging himself out of the bed, pulling on his work uniform and making his way out of the barracks. He thought about stopping by the kitchen first for his breakfast, but he knew he wouldn't eat it, so what was the point?

Trudging down to the first stop on his route, the community bulletin board, he scanned the board for work requests. Housing Unit 43 had a leak in their ceiling. Unit 28 had branches in the yard that needed to be removed.

And then there was the note from Unit 17, Blaine and Santana's house. Kurt drew in his breath as he plucked the card from the board.

"Ants in the kitchen, underneath the sink."

It was Santana's handwriting, and Kurt nearly tore it up. _What was she thinking?_ Kurt thought angrily. _Is she trying to get me killed?_ Kurt knew he'd have to respond to the request, and even if he didn't, his rounds took him right past their house every morning. Collecting all the cards, Kurt shoved them into his back pocket and made his way warily in the direction of Santana and Blaine's house.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaine had been sitting on the porch for nearly every hour of daylight those three days, waiting for Kurt to pass. Santana often sat with him, both of them worried at Kurt's absence.

"He's probably taking a few days to rest after hitting his head," Santana reasoned. It made the most sense, but it didn't do much to qualm their fears.

Now Blaine found himself sitting alone, Santana still in the house preparing breakfast. He stared out into the distance at the houses across the courtyard from his own. There weren't many people out walking about at this time in the morning, but it was the time of day that Kurt was most likely to pass.

Blaine almost missed the movement coming out of the corner of his vision but soon enough Kurt was almost directly in front of him. Blaine shot up from the step nervously.

"Kurt!" Blaine called out, causing Kurt to stop like a deer in headlights. He eyed Blaine nervously, unable to take another step forward.

"Kurt, please," Blaine begged, lowering his voice to keep from startling the boy any further. "I just want to talk, please, I'm not going to do anything."

"I came about the ants," Kurt answered almost robotically, still frozen to the spot.

"The ants?" Blaine asked confused. "Oh, right, the work order. That was just…we just wanted to talk to you, Santana and I."

Kurt finally found his ability to move again and made his way cautiously to the porch.

"Please, sit," Blaine motioned and was glad when Kurt obliged. He sat down across from him, making sure to keep a healthy distance from Kurt, who still looked completely terrified.

"Kurt, just listen to me, please," Blaine began, earning a small slow nod from Kurt. "First, before I say anything else, I would never, _never_ report you to the Officials, especially for something I did without your consent."

The way Kurt's shoulders sagged slightly, as if dropping a heavy weight was encouraging to Blaine and he continued.

"Second, I am so, so sorry for what I did," Blaine said, finding these words among the most difficult he'd ever spoken. "It was completely out of line and I shouldn't have done that. I'm sure you've been nervous about this whole thing—"

"That's a bit of an understatement," Kurt interrupted, taking Blaine aback. For the first time, the fear seemed to leave Kurt's face and he was left looking completely exhausted. All Blaine wanted to do was hold and comfort the boy, but he internally cursed himself for even considering that.

"I know, I know," Blaine answered quickly. "And that's completely my fault. I had no right to do that, and—"

"Why did you do it?"

"Excuse me?" Blaine heard him loud and clear, but he wasn't quite expecting the question.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Blaine paused for a minute while he tried to figure out the best way to answer that question. He could come up with some stupid excuse, but Kurt deserved the truth after everything Blaine put him through.

"Because I wanted to," Blaine answered simply. "Because from the moment I first saw you last week, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I tried to stop, I really did, but I…there's something about you that's scary—"

"Thanks," Kurt laughed sarcastically, cutting him off. He started to stand up.

"No!" Blaine nearly shouted, startling Kurt and causing him to sit back down again. "No, I didn't mean it that way. You're beautiful, I just meant that it was so scary to think about you in…in the way I was thinking about you, because I've never experienced that with another person, let alone another guy."

"You think that about me?" Kurt asked softly, his eyes betraying a vulnerable half-trust.

"Think what?"

"That I'm beautiful."

Blaine hadn't realized that he'd actually said that part out loud and now he could feel his cheeks grow red and hot.

"Yes," Blaine admitted. "I think you're perfect. And I'm scared as hell."

"This is…" Kurt trailed off, unable to form the right words. "This is crazy, you don't….you don't even know me. Plus you're married—"

"Not by choice."

"Right, but you're still married," Kurt continued. "To my best friend no less—"

"Who wants nothing to do with me."

"It, it doesn't matter," Kurt said, shaking his head and standing up again. "This is crazy, I have to go."

"Kurt, please," Blaine begged again, standing up. "Just be honest with me about one thing."

Blaine was hoping for a verbal acknowledgement, but accepted the way that Kurt cocked his head slightly to the side as confirmation.

"That kiss," Blaine started nervously. "You kissed me back. Are you…do you have feelings for me too?"

A million emotions seemed to flash in Kurt's wide, blue eyes in that instant.

"I," Kurt spoke after what seemed like an eternity. "I have to go. I'll, um…I'll check on the ants later this afternoon."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Blaine alone on the porch trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.


	12. Chapter 12

"Well that went well."

Santana looked up from the where she stood at the kitchen counter to find Blaine walking through the front door, looking thoroughly defeated.

"What are you talking about?" she inquired, taking a break from slicing the tomato on her cutting board.

"Kurt," Blaine muttered. "I tried to tell him that I would never…but I don't think he believed a word I said."

"Wait, Kurt's already been here?" Santana asked. "I checked with you, like, five minutes ago."

"Yeah, well it took less time than that for him to completely write me off."

"Are you angry?" Santana placed the knife back on the counter and walked aggressively over to where Blaine stood. "Because I don't think you have any right to be angry. About any of this. Unless you're angry at yourself."

"Of course I'm angry at myself," Blaine shot back. "We've talked about this a million times in the last few days. I screwed up big time, I know that. Get off my back about it!"

"Damn it," Santana growled. "You know what? This is ridiculous. I'm going to go find him and make this right since you're obviously incapable of doing it yourself."

Blaine wanted to yell back at her retreating figure, but he was too upset to form words. Santana grated on him and it had been even worse in the last few days waiting for Kurt to come around. Sure, they'd shared a moment here and there, but most of their time was spent with her getting agitated at him for one thing or another. How in the world they were going to make this marriage work, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that they were going to have to start the reproducing efforts soon if they didn't want to face progressive discipline and in a couple of days, he would be starting his new job with the Officials. He wanted nothing more than to get the situation with Kurt under control before he undertook either of those other two endeavors.

He closed his eyes briefly as the front door slammed and he could hear Santana's feet stomping down the porch steps. In a way he was grateful. Santana had known Kurt for forever, and if he himself couldn't convince Kurt to believe him, hopefully Santana could.

That's what he was hoping, at least.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It only took Santana about ten minutes to track Kurt down on his morning rounds. She knew the route he took, and sure enough, he was exactly where she expected him to be. She watched him for a moment as he kicked some loose gravel out of the walking path before she announced her presence.

"You didn't come inside to check on the ants," she called out. Even from behind, she could see the way Kurt stiffened at the sound of her voice and she tried not to let that bother her.

"Whatever game you're playing, I don't want to be a part of it any longer." Kurt spoke without turning around, and continued slowly down the path. He had to know that Santana wasn't going to give up that quickly, but he certainly wasn't going to make it any easier for her.

"Kurt will you just give me two minutes of your time?" she asked, trying not to sound desperate. "I know you're super busy shuffling your feet and picking up twigs or whatever, but will you please just listen to me?"

Kurt stopped but didn't turn around. It was a start.

"I know you talked to Blaine today."

"I didn't expect that he'd keep that a secret."

Santana walked closer to him and put her hand on his shoulder, urging him to turn to face her. He did, but he didn't try to hide his reluctance.

"You can trust him, he wouldn't ever turn you in."

"Yeah? And how do you know that, Santana? God, we've been over this."

"I just do, Kurt," Santana explained. "His word is good."

"Have you told him about your plan for escape?"

Santana wasn't expecting that, and opened and closed her mouth several times before formulating an answer.

"Well, no but—"

"So how in the world do you expect me to trust him when you can't even trust him yourself?"

"It's complicated—"

"Don't you get it?" Kurt countered, trying his best to keep his voice from rising and to keep his emotions in check. "At any moment, Blaine could decide to turn me in. For God's sake, Santana, he'll be going to work every day for the very people who could put me in front of the firing squad—"

"Firing squad? Kurt, listen, just take a deep breath—"

"Don't tell me what to do," Kurt snapped back. "Don't you dare."

"Okay, listen Hummel," Santana said, getting in Kurt's face. "I understand that you're scared, but you need to take a fucking chill pill, you got it? What's your plan here? Alienate your one friend who's married to the guy you're convinced is going to get you killed? Think about it."

Santana and Kurt found themselves in a silent stare down that lasted for several minutes as they both fought to catch their breaths.

"I'm terrified," Kurt finally admitted, with much less venom in his voice.

"I know," Santana assured gently. "You don't have to believe me, okay? Just listen to what I'm going to say, alright? Will you at least do that for me?"

Kurt nodded in agreement.

"Blaine has been an absolute wreck," Santana started. "It's kind of pathetic actually, the way he's been moping around the house. He's just…he's so worried about you, he's making himself sick. Not that he doesn't deserve it. He hasn't really slept or eaten that much and every time I try to put a plate of food in front of him, he pushes it away and says, 'I bet Kurt's not able to eat right now, so why should I?'"

"Well that's a little dramatic," Kurt muttered. "It's true, but still…"

"Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that I think he's sincere," Santana continued. "I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but he doesn't strike me as the type to make all this up or over-embellish how he's feeling about everything."

"And how is that?" Kurt asked with a fair amount of reluctance. "How does he feel about all this?"

"Honestly? I think he really cares for you. The way he talks about you, the goofy look he gets on his face when we talk about you…it's all…it's all real, Kurt, I'm certain of it."

"Well he needs to get over it," Kurt cleared his throat and stuck his chin in the air. "He's married to you, you two are supposed to be at home making little Santanas and Blaines as we speak."

"That's not going to happen."

"Oh yeah?" Kurt countered. "What about when the Officials come to question you for not being pregnant yet? If you can't even confide in Blaine about your great escape, you're going to have to start working on the reproduction situation."

"I'm going to tell him."

"When? Santana, he goes to work for the Officials in two days. Two. And what if you're wrong? What if you tell him your big plan and he turns you in?"

Santana thought through the possibilities for a minute before answering.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Well I'm not so sure I'm willing to risk it anymore."

"I'm not asking you to," Santana said softly. "I've already caused you enough trouble."

"I care about you," Kurt spoke, eyes beginning to fill. "Please don't do this."

"I care about you too," Santana responded evenly. "And I care about Marina and myself and even stupid Blaine. That's why I'm doing this. If there's something else out there, another option, then I can be the one to lead us out of here. I won't stop until I know."

Kurt didn't speak but he drew her into a tight hug. He knew there was no talking her out of it. When she had her mind set to something, she wouldn't budge. He just hoped with everything he had that she was right.

A few minutes later, Santana began making her way back to the house. She'd refused to leave until Kurt promised to give Blaine a second chance. He'd agreed, mostly because, again, once she had her mind set on something, there was no point in arguing. But also he agreed because he really wanted what she'd said about Blaine to be true.

Within a few minutes, Santana was walking back through her front door. Blaine was in the couch in the living room, obviously waiting for her to arrive back.

"How did it go?" he spoke anxiously, standing up and rubbing his hands nervously on the front of his pants.

"Fine, I think your good," Santana's heart started beating wildly with what she was about to say next. She thought for a split second about backing out, but she decided it was then or never.

"I need to tell you about something."


	13. Chapter 13

Blaine was startled awake by some unknown force, bolting upright in bed. He thought at first maybe his alarm had gone off, but judging by the pitch black room around him, it was still several hours before he could expect that to happen. He cast a cautious look to his right where Santana lay, still soundly asleep before carefully extracting himself from the covers and sliding gently off the bed, praying that he didn't wake her.

It had been two days since Santana had told him about her grand plan for escaping the community. Well, Blaine wasn't sure it was much of a plan, not yet anyway. It was more of a goal; get out alive. And even then, she had no idea what would be facing her once she was out on her own, none of them did. What lay beyond the boundaries of the New Reality was as foreign as what one might find in a completely uncharted area. It would be like stepping on an alien planet, unsure whether one would be greeted with friendliness or hostility.

As far as Blaine knew, no one had ever done it successfully, at least not in a very long time and the chances of being caught were certain. So naturally, his reluctance to be a part of any of it was understandable. At least, it should have been.

"So that's it?" Santana had asked him sharply. "You're not going to even try?"

"No, because this is absolutely ridiculous," Blaine countered. "I'm not going to help you get yourself killed."

"But don't you see, with you being on the inside—"

"With me being on this inside, your plan will get me killed too."

"Blaine." Her voice was much softer this time, enticing Blaine to believe her, despite his better judgment. "This isn't the life you want, we both know it."

"Regardless, it's the life I've been given and I'm not willing to risk it."

"Right," Santana argued. "It's the life you've been given, but not the life you've chosen. Don't you want to be able to choose who to spend your life with, where you want to spend it? Don't you want life to be the way it used to be?"

"Santana," Blaine exhaled heavily, trying not to lose his patience. "That world doesn't exist anymore. It's pointless to dream for something that's not possible."

"What if it is possible?" she pushed. "What did you want to be when you grew up? Before the outbreak?"

Blaine had to think about it for a few moments. It had been a long time since he allowed himself access into the far reaches of his memory.

"A performer," he finally answered with a small, wistful smile. "I wanted to sing and dance and act on stage."

"And now look at you," Santana laughed humorlessly. "You're married to someone you don't love and in two days, your headed to an office job, working for the same people who would be willing to put Kurt to death because of a decision you made for your own happiness. Can't you see how messed up that is?"

Blaine didn't answer. He couldn't counter that, everything she said was right. Of course he wanted to argue. Until a few weeks ago, Blaine had been relatively content with his lot in life, but a lot had happened in the last few weeks and now he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Don't give me an answer today," Santana told him. "Think about it, and just give me your word that you'll keep this between us until you decide okay? Please?"

"Okay," Blaine answered. It wouldn't be hard to keep her secret. So far, she hadn't really made any solid plans and even if he wanted to turn her in, which he didn't, she'd be questioned by the Officials and given a relatively mild punishment in the square and sent back home to him. Imagining her wrath was nearly as scary as what he'd seen out of the Official punishment review board.

Now, walking down the short, dark hallway to the kitchen, Blaine found himself incredibly nervous about his first day on the job. What kind of questions would he be asked? What kind of information would he be privy to? What would his responsibilities be? The training he'd received over the past few years gave him an overall idea of what things might be like. He was trained in accounting, stenography, public speaking and so on, but there was never a specific outline of what the average day in the life of an Official looked like. Blaine had always imagined there was a good reason for that, but his conversation with Santana in the days prior led him to believe that there might be something more sinister behind the Officials decision to keep everyone in the dark at all times.

The only thing that weighed more heavily on Blaine's mind was his conversation with Kurt. He could tell by the way Kurt looked at him after Blaine asked him about his feelings that Kurt felt something for him too. If only he could get the boy to trust him, maybe he'd have another shot at making things right with him.

_And then what?_ Blaine asked himself. _The two of us would ride off into the sunset together and live happily ever after?_ No matter how many times Blaine tried to rework it in his head, he always came up with the same solution. The only way he and Kurt could be together is if they went along with Santana's plan, whatever it was, and escaped together.

But what if Kurt didn't want to go? Or didn't even want to be with Blaine? Sure, Blaine was pretty confident that Kurt had some sort of feelings for him, but were they enough to risk his whole life? Then again, what kind of life did Kurt have ahead of him? The life of a lonely laborer, it wasn't something that was particularly desirable. It was one thing to be forced into a marriage, but it was quite another to never have a shot at being with someone romantically.

Kurt deserved more, a better life, Blaine decided, and he wanted to be the one to give it to him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Psst! Kurt! Come here!"

Kurt immediately changed his path to head up to Santana's house, where she was waiting for him on the porch. He hadn't been around in the past few days, waiting to see what would happen once Santana told Blaine about her plan for escape. He didn't want to admit it, but he was terrified Blaine would turn her in and he didn't want to be around when it happened.

"Don't worry, he left for work about a half hour ago," Santana said, reading Kurt's mind. Upon hearing this, he took his usual spot on the porch across from her.

"So, did you talk to him about it or not?" Kurt probed, knowing she'd gather what he was asking without providing more context.

"I did," Santana admitted. "Right after you and I talked the other day."

"And?" Kurt prompted.

"And, he's thinking about it."

"He—wait what? He's thinking about it? You're kidding."

"I'm dead serious," Santana answered with a smile. "I can be pretty persuasive, you know."

"Yeah, I've discovered," Kurt mumbled, still in shock that Blaine not only didn't report it, but that he was thinking about helping her. "So what did he say? Why isn't he fighting you on this?"

"Well, he definitely tried at first," she explained. "But when I started reminding him about all the things he was missing out on living in the community and the fact that his life was not his own here, I think that help plant the seed in his mind."

"Did you…did he…God this is so embarrassing."

"Your name wasn't mentioned by either of us," Santana spoke, reading his mind once again. "But I guarantee you that you're the reason he's even considering any of this."

"That's crazy, Santana," Kurt scoffed. "He doesn't even know me."

"Based on what he's seen, he really wants to know you, Kurt. I think this is more than a little schoolyard crush. I think he really has feelings for you and if I had to guess, I'd say that picturing a life with you is what's motivating him to even consider running."

"No, no, see he's just figured out that he likes boys," Kurt answered skeptically. "And I happen to be the only boy in his life right now, so—"

"Kurt," Santana interrupted with a look of no-nonsense on her face. "You do realize that his dorm was all-male just like yours. Don't you think he would have been attracted to someone there if he just liked boys?"

Kurt cocked an eyebrow and averted his gaze, but remained silent. Santana could almost see the line of boys parading through Kurt's mind at that moment, the ones he'd development unspoken crushes on over the years.

"You have a point," he finally conceded.

"I always do," Santana answered with a self-satisfied smirk. "Now, when he gets home from work, I'll have a better idea of where his head is at. If he's on the fence now, his first day at work with the Officials should knock him over onto one side or the other."

"And what if that side is to stay?"

"I'm not going to focus on that," she answered. "I'm taking this one step at a time and the only thing I can do is hope for the best."

"Okay," Kurt agreed reluctantly. "Same time, same place tomorrow?"

"I'll see you then," Santana answered, putting on a brave smile. The truth was, she was terrified and as she watched Kurt step off her porch and continue on his way, she couldn't help but worry that this was the last time she'd ever see him.


	14. Chapter 14

Three days.

That was how long Blaine told Santana he needed to make up his mind. As a reward for her not bugging him about it, he promised her that no matter what, on the evening of the third day when he got home from work, he would give her an answer.

Now the day had come and it was dragging on so slowly that Santana was worried she would wear a track into the hallway between the bedroom and the kitchen with all of her pacing. Thankfully Kurt was able to complete all of his tasks and slip away to her house in the afternoon to help her wait out the long hours before Blaine got home.

"Stop pacing, sweetie, you're making me nauseous," Kurt groaned for what felt like the hundredth time since he arrived at her house less than an hour earlier.

"I can't," she argued, continuing her path. "What if he says no?"

"Look," Kurt sighed with a hint of exasperation. "We've had this conversation a hundred times in the past few days, you can't think about that."

"Don't I need to have some kind of back-up plan though?" she said, finally stopping to look at Kurt.

"Santana…" Kurt trailed off, pleading with her with his eyes.

She already knew the answer to that question. If he said no, then she had to stop her plans, for at least a while, or else he'd turn her in. And with the amount of time it would take to develop a new plan in secret, she would more than likely have to get pregnant to avoid arousing suspicions. Then she'd have to figure out how to escape with a baby while trying to figure out how to delay having another one.

In other words, Blaine saying "no" would be a nail in the coffin of Santana's plan for freedom.

"I have an idea," Kurt piped up after several more painfully slow minutes. "Why don't you go down to the garden, pick out some fresh vegetables and prepare an amazing dinner."

"Kurt—"

"No listen," he continued excitedly, obviously inspired by his plan. "Make the best, most delicious dish you know how to make. When he gets home, don't let him tell you his decision yet, even if he wants to. Sit down and eat, have a nice meal, be charming and flirty like we both know you are well-skilled at and _then_ ask him. If he had any doubts before about going along with your plan, maybe you can persuade him with food."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Santana mused. "I mean, I can't persuade him with sex, as we've discovered."

"Nope."

"Okay," Santana continued, a little more enthusiastically. "Yeah, I have time to do that. Are you coming with me?"

"How about I stay here and get the mood set?" Kurt offered. "I'll clean, maybe decorate a bit. I mean, there's not a lot to work with around here, but if anyone can do it, it's probably me."

"That's true," Santana conceded. "You don't mind doing that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt asked. "The last time I got to decorate anything was at my seventh birthday party. Speaking of, do you realize how hard it is to pull off a British royals-themed birthday party for first graders?"

"You are so weird," Santana muttered, walking over to the kitchen to grab her vegetable tote before heading toward the front door. "I'll be back soon, just don't do anything too…crazy."

"You were going to say gay!" he called after her, but the door had already slammed shut. Shaking his head, he got up from the couch in the living room and began walking around, trying to get a few ideas.

"Okay," he mused aloud. "I just need some toilet paper rolls, scissors and super glue and I'll be on my way."

And with that, he was off to the bathroom looking for supplies, determined to make the house a little more domestic and a little less prison-like, at least for a night.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaine shuffled slowly towards the entrance of his housing complex. His orientation had ended early and as a reward for him and the other trainee, Jordan, doing so well, they were sent home for an early start to the evening. For Jordan, this was good news. All week when the two of them were left alone to work on a task, Jordan went on and on about how much he enjoyed having sex with his new wife. It bothered Blaine that when he finally snapped and asked if his wife was enjoying it just as much, Jordan went silent. To Blaine, that only indicated one thing, and it made him shudder to think about.

But the real reason Blaine was taking his time getting home was because he promised Santana an answer by this evening, and even though it was practically all he'd thought about in the past few days, he still hadn't made his mind up. His hopes for doing so within the next five minutes before he got to the front door of his housing unit were incredibly slim.

Nonetheless, he decided there was no point in delaying it. Santana would be upset obviously, maybe she'd throw things or hit him or do whatever she felt like she needed to do, but she was going to have to live with the fact that he simply needed more time. Either that, or he was going to say no, and he imagined that once he confronted her with that choice, she'd be more than willing to give him a little more time.

Finally climbing onto the porch, he opened the front door slowly, his head bowed, expecting to face an onslaught of questions from his wife the minute his foot hit the carpet.

"You're back already!" an excited voice from the hallway called, only it wasn't Santana's. "You should see what I'm doing back here, it actually looks pretty good considering my limited resources."

Before Blaine had a chance to respond, a smiling Kurt rounded the corner and came face to face with him. Immediately the joy turned to obvious surprise before settling into a wide eyed, quiet fear.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt spoke again when he found his voice. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at work."

"I could say the same to you," Blaine answered with a nervous smile. When he saw that Kurt hadn't caught his humorous tone, he quickly explained further.

"It was the last day of orientation and they let me come home early," he explained. "So, where's Santana?"

"She's um, she," Kurt stuttered. "She just went down to the garden. She wanted to make a nice dinner, but she didn't have everything she needed."

"And you're here alone because…"

"I told her I would do a bit of decorating," Kurt answered honestly. "This place is just so, you know, bare. I wanted to give it some character."

"I see," Blaine said. "Run out of things to decorate at your place?"

"I live in a closet, Blaine."

Blaine winced. He'd meant it to be funny, but he forgot how small the living quarters were for Infertiles. He was about to apologize profusely when Kurt started giggling.

"Right," Blaine acknowledged with a chuckle of his own. Just like that, it seemed the tension between them was broken, if only a bit.

"So, I, uh…I guess you and San have a lot to talk about tonight," Kurt ventured after he'd recovered from his laughing spell.

"Yeah," Blaine answered with a deep breath. "I—"

"No," Kurt cut him off. "Don't tell me. I'm really bad at hiding secrets and she deserves to know your decision first anyway."

"You're right, but the thing is—"

Kurt interrupted him again, but this time it was with a kiss. Blaine's eyes widened in shock as Kurt's soft lips landed unexpectedly on his and stayed there. After the initial shock wore off, Blaine closed his eyes, matching Kurt's, and began kissing back. It wasn't like the first time. This time it was a thousand times better because Kurt had initiated it and there was no longer any doubt in Blaine's mind that Kurt felt the same way about him as he did about Kurt.

As the kiss deepened, Blaine's hands tentatively found their way to Kurt's waist and drew him in a bit closer. Kurt responded with a slight moan to the feeling of having someone touch him in a way he'd never been touched before. His own hands travelled to Blaine's face, cupping it softly as he granted Blaine's tongue access to his mouth.

After a few minutes, Kurt finally pulled away, breathless.

"What was that for?" Blaine asked dumbly.

"You wouldn't shut up," Kurt answered simply.

"Does this mean—"

"I can't stop thinking about you," Kurt continued, realizing that now that he started, there was no going back. "It scares the hell out of me, but I can't deny it, so if you have to turn me in—"

This time it was Blaine's turn to shut Kurt up with a kiss. It was a quick, gentle one this time. Despite his desire to make out with Kurt until the end of time, what he needed to say to him was more important.

"I'll say it as often as I need to," Blaine assured, taking Kurt's face in his hands and looking him directly in the eyes. "But I meant it the first time. I would never do that and I really wish you would believe me. And I hope you believe me when I say…when I say that I really like you, and that I haven't stopped thinking about you either."

Kurt cocked his head to the side slightly, as if trying to get a better read on the boy in front of him. With a smile, he leaned in and they both gladly resumed their previous activity.

Neither one of them knew how long they'd been at it when they heard an expectant Santana clearing her throat less than two feet away from them. They both jumped back in surprise and turned to face the girl.

"I take it your answer is yes?" she asked Blaine, a small smile playing on her lips.

Blaine looked between her and Kurt several times before finally addressing her.

"If Kurt's in, I'm in," he stated simply. Now he and Santana both shifted their focus to Kurt, who looked beyond bewildered at the sudden change of events. Taking a deep breath, he spoke.

"I'm in."


	15. Chapter 15

Nearly a month had passed since Blaine and Kurt agreed to help Santana escape with Marina and while each day in the community seemed to pass excruciatingly slow on one hand, the fact that Santana wasn't pregnant yet after six weeks of marriage was beginning to pose a problem. Ten years ago, no one expected a couple to be preparing for parenthood after such a short amount of time, but now things were different. Six weeks without a bump was deemed suspicious.

Blaine had been dutifully going to work every day, going through the motions, playing the role of assistant to the Officials, but every evening was spent with Santana and Kurt, mapping out their plan of action. Their original plans were almost unrecognizable at this point. What started as a crude timeline of events was starting to fill out into an actual, seemingly feasible plan of action. It would take time, no one was deluded about that. It would take resources, some of which the three of them had already started stockpiling. Well, really just Blaine and Santana. As Fertiles, they had access to so many more supplies and provisions than Kurt did. Blaine made it a point to mention how unfair it was on a regular basis while Kurt just smiled and told him it didn't matter. What mattered was that they were all getting out and once they did, they would all be equal.

Two weeks after their decision to start planning, Santana received the worst blow she'd gotten since the plague took nearly her entire family. As she walked around the community garden one day, Kurt approached her and pulled her to the side, sitting her down on a nearby bench.

"What's going on with you?" she asked him suspiciously. "Why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?"

"It's Marina, San," Kurt explained, voice shaking slightly. "Sh-She got notice of her fertility status."

"Wait, how do you know that?" Santana asked in a lame attempt to avoid asking the question she wasn't sure she was ready to hear the answer to just yet.

"Well, you know Lori in the Infertile Females' barrack?"

When Santana shook her head 'no,' he wasn't surprised. Fertiles and Infertiles didn't communicate or interact unless it was to conduct business or for services. Kurt was, of course, Santana's exception.

"Anyway," Kurt continued. "She works in Marina's dormitory. She was there when the staff told the girls what they were."

"And?" Santana asked, both impatient and hesitant at the same time. "Spit it out, Kurt, what is it?"

"She's a Fertile, San."

That one sentence sent Santana reeling. In her mind, she constantly wavered between which would be worse for her little sister, the barren, oftentimes physically grueling and lonely life of an Infertile, or the forced sexual and falsely intimate life of a Fertile. In reality, it didn't matter what Marina's status was. The fact was, Marina now had a status, and Santana was one step closer to watching her sister be forced into a life she didn't choose.

After Kurt gave her the news, Santana found her way back to the house, stumbling here and there on her way. She felt like she was walking through a heavy fog and for the first time in her life that she could remember, she was unable to snap out of it. She couldn't push past her fear and anxiety to try to figure out what to do from that point. She was decidedly un-Santanalike in that moment.

It didn't last, however. By the time Kurt finished his daily assignments and Blaine was making his way home from the Officials building, she'd redoubled her efforts to get out of the community as soon as humanly possible.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Santana's head whipped up from where she sat on the couch in the common room when she heard the knock on the door. It was still early in the afternoon and Kurt wasn't due to come by for several hours. She stood up and began making her way to the door warily, unsure of what might greet her on the other side. Ever since she and the boys began planning, she found herself more alert to danger, more paranoid even, of being found out.

Whoever stood on the other side of the door was both persistent and impatient as they banged again, louder and with more repetition. Drawing in a deep breath, Santana reached for the handle and pulled the door open, trying to look as pleasant and unassuming as possible for whomever stood there.

To both her surprise and dread, the uniform on the serious-looking man in front of her told her that she was standing face to face with a lesser Official. Even though her heart was slamming itself against her ribcage, she fought to keep her facial features neutral.

"Yes?" she greeted in as innocent a tone as she could muster. "Can I help you, Sir?"

"Santana 1 Lima?"

"Yes, Sir, that's me."

"You are hereby summoned to the Official's council along with your husband, this Tuesday at nine o'clock in the morning. You are not to be late."

With that, the Official handed Santana a plain white sealed envelope and promptly turned on his heel, walked down the few steps and down the path away from the house. Santana stood frozen in the open doorway, feet planted to the ground, staring at the ominous-looking envelope. Finally, after several minutes she regained the ability to move and slowly backed out of her doorway and into the house, letting the door close gently behind her.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, what the hell is wrong, Santana? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Santana stared dumbly at Kurt as he stood over her. She was in the same place she'd been for nearly three hours since the Official left her house. After coming back inside, she placed the unopened envelope on the kitchen counter and sat down on the couch, staring off into space as the afternoon faded into early evening. Now that Kurt was there, Blaine should be walking in the door at any moment.

"An Official came to the house today," she explained quietly. "He dropped off that."

She pointed with minimal effort to where the small packet lay. Kurt walked slowly over to the counter and picked it up, turning it over a few times in his hands.

"You didn't open it?" he asked, though the answer was apparent.

"Couldn't," she stated simply. "Thought I'd wait until you and Blaine got here."

As if on cue, the front door opened and Blaine strolled in. From the looks of it, he hadn't caught wind of anything going on at work having to do with him and his wife.

"What's going on in here?" Blaine stopped in his tracks. It was apparent that something was wrong. The look on Kurt's face and the way Santana sat slumped on the couch gave it all away.

"We've been summoned to the Official's council meeting on Tuesday," Santana answered.

"An Official dropped this off today," Kurt added, handing the envelope to Blaine. Blaine took it and he too turned it over, looking for the open flap.

"Did the Official say why?" Blaine asked.

"No," Santana spoke. "Whatever it is, it's probably in that envelope."

"Did you get one?" Blaine asked, turning to Kurt, his voice wavering slightly.

"No," Kurt answered. "But then again, Infertiles don't get pretty envelopes. We get escorts."

Kurt couldn't help but shudder as he remembered his series of dreams from his first few days in the housing complex.

"I'm going to open it," Blaine announced, pausing for a moment to see if either of them were going to challenge it. Instead, Kurt sank slowly to the couch, grasping onto Santana's hand and squeezing it. Either to support her, or to seek it for himself, neither was quite sure.

Blaine ran a finger slowly under the flap, breaking the seal. As he slid the letter out, both Santana and Kurt could see how his hand shook. He carefully unfolded the letter and began to read silently.

"It's about our pregnancy status," Blaine announced after a few seconds. All three breathed tentative sighs of relief.

"We have to go in for more fertility testing and to meet with the special repopulation council to discuss why we think we haven't conceived yet," Blaine further explained. Kurt couldn't help but snicker a bit.

"It's not funny, asshole," Santana punched him lightly in the arm. Kurt winced and immediately began rubbing the sore spot.

"I know, I'm sorry," he apologized. "But can you blame me for being a little relieved that this has nothing to do with me, or what we're trying to do?"

"I guess not," Santana answered grudgingly. "But what the hell are we going to do, Blaine? That meeting is in four days and we still haven't…you know, had sex."

"We'll think of something," Blaine assured, despite the fact that he had absolutely no idea what that something was. "It'll all work out."

And with that, the three began brainstorming what to tell the Officials at the meeting. While they hated having to put the escape planning on hold for a night, the immediate matter at hand was trying to figure out exactly how to appease the Officials without actually having sex or getting pregnant. It was a tall order, but between the three of them, a plan finally started taking shape.

By the end of the night, they agreed that the only thing they could do then was wait for Tuesday to see what happened.


	16. Chapter 16

"San, I don't think I can pull this off."

Santana looked at her husband beside her as he wiped his sweaty palms on the front of his trousers nervously. It was Tuesday morning and they were dressed formally, Santana in her graduation dress and Blaine in his Official work uniform.

"Yes you can, Blaine," Santana answered with a fair amount of exasperation. "We've been over this a million times, we've been practicing for four days now. Just keep your cool. Actually, no, stay nervous. Maybe it'll pass for reverence to these sanctimonious assholes."

"Santana," Blaine hissed. "You can't talk like that here! There are people everywhere, someone might hear you!"

"Okay, fine, whatever," Santana brushed him off flippantly. Inside, she was a bundle of nerves, but there was no way she was going to show that to the outside world. She was convinced that the plan she and the boys had schemed up would work, but there was still that small doubt in the back of her mind that made her knees tremble ever so slightly.

"Santana 1 Lima and Blaine 2 Westerville?"

The voice echoed down the empty hallway of the old courthouse that had been converted into headquarters for the Officials after the outbreak. Santana and Blaine stood, held hands and began making their way towards the heavy oak doors being held open by the Official's assistant who'd called for them.

"We're here," Blaine announced formally, stopping with Santana directly in front of the assistant.

"Follow me," he instructed in an emotionless voice, as if meetings such as this one were mundane and every day affairs.

Their footsteps almost fell in unison as all three made their way up the aisle to the front of the courtroom where a panel of three Officials sat. The assistant motioned to a table directly in front of the bench in front of them before making his way to the back of the room. Santana and Blaine stood behind their chairs, waiting to be told to sit.

"You are Blaine 2 Westerville?" The Official in the middle asked.

"Yes sir," he answered.

"And you are Santana 1 Lima?"

"Yes sir," Santana answered clearly. She internally winced at the second use of her post-outbreak name in as many minutes.

"You may both be seated," the Official instructed, and Blaine pulled out Santana's chair for her before taking his own.

"I imagine the two of you know why you're here today," the Official continued once everyone was settled.

"Yes sir," Blaine acknowledged aloud while Santana nodded.

"You two are the only couple from your graduating class to not be expecting a child," the Official to the left added. "Now, we've retested your fertility statuses on the off-chance that your original diagnostics were unclear or somehow misinterpreted, but both came back positive for fertility."

"Yes sir," Santana spoke up, pushing her shoulders back a bit further. "My husband and I have been discussing the issue—"

"It's been almost two months, Santana," the Official on the right interrupted.

"Yes, we know," Santana continued, trying not to let herself become intimidated by the three stern Officials. "And we think that it…the problem may be…well, it's—"

"I think what my wife is trying to say," Blaine interrupted, gently. Santana was pleased that he'd remembered the first cue. "Is that we think, well, is it possible to have too much sex?"

All three Officials eyes' widened and the one on the left was sent into a coughing fit.

"I mean, could that be keeping a baby from developing? We can try to cut back if—"

"No," the Official in the center interrupted, taking his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose. "That shouldn't be hindering your ability to conceive. Exactly how often are you…?"

"Making love?" Blaine answered with a knowing smile. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Santana had to fight the urge to laugh as she watched Blaine work his magic on the panel.

"I don't know, what would you say, honey?" he asked, turning to Santana innocently. "Four, five times a day? More on the weekends?"

Santana cleared her throat involuntarily. That was a bit higher than the number they'd practiced. She was thankful for the surprise though, she could feel the blush rising in her cheeks and she imagined that could only help solidify her image as a bashful housewife engaging in more hanky panky than was socially acceptable.

"Yes, that sounds about right," she finally choked out, eyes slightly watery from restraint.

"Well, it sounds like you two are…on the right path," the middle Official spoke again, sounding more than a little uncomfortable. You have one more month to conceive before progressive discipline begins. I suggest you do what you can to help your chances—"

"With all due respect sir," Blaine cut in. "I'm already coming home on my lunch breaks—"

"I was more referring to the post-coital exercises your wife was taught in the dormitories," the Official explained, unable to make eye contact with either of them. "I'm sure she's aware of what I'm referring to."

"Yes sir," Santana confirmed. "I'll be sure to do that."

"Alright, then. I hereby conclude this panel, Blaine, Santana, you're free to go."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're kidding me? Four or five times and more on the weekends?" Kurt asked with an incredulous chuckle. "Are you insane?"

The three were celebrating back at Santana and Blaine's house. They'd run into Kurt on their way back from the panel. Blaine was excused for the rest of the day, presumably to get a head start on the day's repopulation efforts.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Blaine asked Santana with playful defensiveness.

"I have to hand it to you Blaine," Santana remarked. "I honestly didn't think you'd be able to pull it off."

"I'll have you know, I'm a great actor," Blaine answered. "Well, I would have been, if given the opportunity I suppose."

"I think you'll have plenty of opportunity to put your acting chops to work over the next couple of months," Kurt added, taking a sip of homemade lemonade. And with that, a somber silence fell over the room as all three remembered the larger task at hand.

"I say we just take a night to celebrate this small victory," Santana announced. "We've got a lot of the plan in place, now we just need to fine tune everything and wait for the right moment. I think we deserve a little break."

"I'll drink to that," Blaine held up his cup in a mock toast before throwing back his own lemonade. He saw Kurt smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. He'd never grow tired of seeing that look on Kurt's face.

"Okay, well, as fun as this has been," Kurt started, setting down his cup. "I better get going. It's almost sundown and Margie will throw away my dinner if I'm not back in time."

He gave both of them a quick hug before making his way to the front door to let himself out.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" he called out over his shoulder as he walked over the threshold. As he turned back around to face the porch steps, he was startled by a bright light shining in his eyes.

"Kurt 3 Lima?" a deep voice called out.

"Y-yes?" Kurt stammered nervously. This wasn't good.

"Under order of the Official's council, you are hereby remanded into Official custody until further notice."

Kurt's heart began beating wildly as men stepped on either side of him, forcing his arms behind his back.

"On what charge?" he asked, trying to sound indignant but instead sounding small and scared.

"Neglect of duties and possible subterfuge of the efforts of the New Reality," the voice answered. Kurt thought about screaming for help but he knew it would do no good. He didn't want to get anyone else into the kind of trouble he imagined he was in himself.

"Walk," the man on his left barked at him as they pushed him toward the stairs. His feet stumbled slightly but thankfully he regained his balance at the bottom.

Kurt was terrified, and the resemblance of real life to his nightmares from weeks before wasn't helping matters.

 _I didn't tell them goodbye,_ Kurt thought to himself, his panic level rising. _I didn't tell them how much I love them._

It took all of Kurt's effort to keep the tears from falling from his eyes as he was led to the transport van parked in the roadway. As the doors slammed, shutting him in the back, he crawled to one side of the van, leaning against the dirty wall, praying for a way out.


	17. Chapter 17

Two and a half days had passed since the night Kurt was taken from Santana's and Blaine's porch by the Official's arrest squad. He had no idea where he was or what fate awaited him, but he had to admit that he was being treated better here than in his nightmares. The room was the same design as his room in the Infertile barracks, with the same thin mattress and blanket to boot. If Kurt thought he was ever going to get out again, he'd bother to be outraged about the living conditions as an Infertile being so comparable to being in jail. Three times a day, they brought him food. Again, it was the same fare he was eating in the barracks, so really, the only discernible difference that Kurt could see between his life outside the jail and inside of it was the fact that he didn't have his work responsibilities. Well, that and a complete lack of contact with anyone from the outside world, Blaine and Santana in particular. The only social interaction he had was when the guards were dropping off his lunch tray or picking it back up again. Every now and then, they would deliver him a bit of unsolicited news.

"Your work responsibilities are being covered by another Infertile in your housing unit," a guard barked at him while he ate his breakfast on the first morning. As if Kurt cared.

"There's a huge storm rolling in," another one told him later that day. His cell was in the basement of whatever building he was in, so without the regular meal times, he wouldn't know whether it was day or night, let alone if the skies were cloudy.

He didn't care about anything the guards told him, because none of it addressed any of the questions he actually had. Like, where the hell was he? And what was going to happen to him? And when? He knew better than to speak when the guards brought him his food. So far, they hadn't seemed interested in engaging him in conversation. Maybe they weren't allowed. In any case, they didn't ask him anything, just occasionally delivered useless little nuggets of information that served to do nothing but distract Kurt momentarily from the issue at hand. All he knew was that they wouldn't keep him down there forever. At some point, the Officials would be coming for him.

"Psst!"

Kurt's ears perked up as he sat up on his elbows and looked out onto the few feet of hallway he could see outside of his cell. At first he didn't see anything. Disappointed, he lay back down, thinking it hadn't been long enough for insanity and auditory hallucinations to start creeping in on him.

"Psst! Kurt!"

This time Kurt sat up fully on the cot. Someone was definitely out there and that someone's voice, however strained by the effort to be both quiet enough to avoid detection by the guards and loud enough to be heard by Kurt, sounded very much like Blaine's.

"Blaine?" he asked quietly, rushing over to the cell bars. "Is that you? Where are you?"

Within a second, Blaine popped into view. He was wearing his Official's uniform and judging by when he had his last meal delivered, Kurt guessed that Blaine was on his lunch break.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, concern etching his face.

"I'm fine, I guess, but you need to get out of here," Kurt admonished frantically. "If they catch you-"

"It's fine Kurt, I'm not going to get caught, trust me," Blaine assured. "I just had to check on you."

Kurt scanned Blaine's face over a few times. He certainly looked worried, but not for his own safety, only for Kurt's. If Kurt felt like he had enough time, he would have pestered Blaine more about how he'd made it down there without being caught or what made him so sure he wouldn't get in trouble for it, but since it might be his one and only opportunity to have contact with Blaine ever again, he had to push all that to the back of his mind.

"Where am I? What am I doing here?" Kurt asked. "How much longer before they come for me?"

Blaine reached through the bars and linked his fingers with Kurt's. Kurt didn't realize how much he was trembling until Blaine's touch instantly calmed him.

"You're in the basement holding cell of the courthouse where I work," Blaine explained, taking his questions in order. "You're here because someone reported to the Officials that you were spending a suspicious amount of time with Santana and me and I think you're getting out soon, but I don't know when."

"Getting out?" Kurt repeated. "Do you mean getting out as in getting released, or getting out as in getting put in front of the panel in the commons?"

"Getting released," Blaine confirmed. "They have nothing against you except hearsay by one nosy neighbor and you haven't been neglecting your work duties or doing anything subversive."

"So why am I here then?" Kurt hissed. "If I didn't do anything wrong, why are they treating me like a criminal?"

"Bad timing," Blaine answered, squeezing Kurt's hand a little tighter. "Santana and I had just been called before the counsel, they heard reports of you hanging around, they just wanted to cover their bases."

"Are you defending this?" Kurt asked, his anger level rising exponentially. Now that it seemed that he was more than likely out of serious danger, he was seeing red. He disentangled his fingers from Blaine's and stepped back slightly from the bars.

"Kurt, no-"

"Because it sounds like you're in agreement with your employers abducting me in the night, throwing me in the back of the van and dumping me in this cell without any explanation of what was happening or how long I'd be here!"

"Listen," Blaine reasoned, lowering his voice even further, which forced Kurt to move a little closer to hear him. "Obviously I don't agree with it, but I'm kind of in a difficult position here."

"Oh, that's right," Kurt spoke with condescension dripping from his words. "I forgot. You're an Official now. Priorities and all."

"Don't do that," Blaine snapped. "You know I didn't have a choice in that."

"Well maybe you could try just a little bit less to sound like one of them when you're talking to me."

Kurt turned his back on Blaine before he could see the tears welling up in his eyes. He knew lashing out at Blaine didn't make any sense, but he was so scared, tired and overwhelmed that he was starting to feel like a caged animal, unable to trust even the hand that calmed his own.

"Kurt, please look at me."

Kurt could hear the pleading in Blaine's voice, but his stubbornness wouldn't let him turn around, no matter how much he really wanted to.

"Please Kurt?" Blaine tried again. After a few moments of silence from the other boy, Blaine finally gave up. His fingers lingered on the bars for a few seconds as all the things he wanted to say to Kurt cycled through his brain.

_You're being childish._

_I know you're scared, but you have to trust me._

_I'm going to make sure nothing bad happens to you._

_I love you._

_I need you to say you love me back._

Instead, Blaine left without another word. He couldn't trust himself to say anything more at this point. He was so angry and feeling out of control, he didn't want to fuel those same feelings inside of Kurt with his own words. He just had to trust that Kurt would come around once he was released.

Kurt heard Blaine's feet landing gently on the concrete hallway leading around from his cell and he knew it was too late to turn around and call for him to come back. Cursing himself, he slumped back onto his cot and allowed the tears to flow freely. What had he just done? In the moment, he'd taken Blaine at his word that he'd be getting out soon, but what if Blaine was wrong? What if he wasn't going to be released? Kurt couldn't bear the thought that his last interaction with the person that he was quickly growing to love had gone so drastically wrong.

He could only hope that Blaine was right and that this nightmare was going to end soon.


	18. Chapter 18

Santana stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables, which really felt like the only thing she did these days. Well, that and plan the escape, which unfortunately had been halted to a standstill when Kurt was locked up. He'd finally been released two days prior, but Santana and Blaine hadn't heard from him since. Not that Santana was expecting to, of course. Why would he risk coming around when it had ended so badly the last time? Though Santana did have to admit that she missed him more than she thought she ever would. Almost as much as she missed Marina these days. As she finished slicing the tomatoes, she let her mind wander to that sacred place she visited only when she needed extra courage and motivation. The place where the four of them lived in harmony, under no one's rules but their own.

Blaine and Santana had three weeks to get pregnant or get out. The board couldn't have been more specific about what was expected of them from the point of their meeting forward. The 'too much sex' idea had been pure genius on Blaine's part, but it wouldn't work again. No excuse would work the second time around, and unless she wanted an audience for a forced sexual encounter between her and Blaine, she had to make sure everyone was still on the same page about leaving the community.

Since they began planning, and since Blaine began working for the Officials, they'd learned of a few successful escape attempts. Sure, there'd always been rumors about pockets of people living outside the boundaries of the various established communities, but no one was really sure if they actually existed. Kurt had once overheard a few of his fellow Infertiles discussing such a place in none other than Lima, but neither he nor Santana allowed themselves to entertain that idea.

Even if there weren't other communities, even if they would be completely on their own, all of them were convinced they could do it. Living through the worst tragedy in the history of the human race had taught all of them a little bit about survival. And as Santana constantly reminded them, when you really want something, nothing will get in your way of achieving it.

"What are you making?"

The unexpected sound of Blaine's voice from behind her caused Santana to jump a bit. Blaine's hands felt heavy on her shoulders and she wiggled out of his grasp with a sigh of annoyance.

"What's the matter with you?" Blaine asked with a gentle sincerity.

"Take one guess, Blaine," Santana retorted as Blaine moved around the tiny island to look her in the eyes.

"Look, he's just taking some time to himself—"

"How can you be so calm about this?" Santana interrupted. "If anything, you should be the one freaking out and I should be calming you down."

"You didn't see him down there," Blaine explained, frustration starting to edge his voice. "He was terrified, he needs some time."

"Yeah, well guess what? Time is exactly what we don't have. I know Kurt, Blaine. I know him better than you do even if you don't believe it. He's not coming back unless we go and get him. Correction, unless you go and get him."

"So what, I'm supposed to just stroll over to the Infertile barracks and scoop him up and bring him back here?"

Blaine was raising his voice to match Santana's, despite his best efforts to remain the calm one in this situation. Deep down he wanted to go do just that. He wanted to arrive outside Kurt's door on horseback, pick him up and carry him home, to a home of their own. He wanted to live with Kurt as lovers and best friends and husbands but that wasn't an option. Right now, they were barely able to work on their plan for escape, and despite Santana's belief to the contrary, Blaine was well aware of exactly how much time they had left.

"I'm done arguing with you about this," Santana said softly, through her hands up in defeat. "You know exactly what you need to do and I'm tired of you trying to use me to talk yourself out of it."

She wiped her hands off on her apron and brushed past Blaine on her way out of the kitchen. He watched her storm off down the hallway and enter their bedroom, slamming the door harshly behind her. With a groan, Blaine lifted his eyes to the ceiling, searching the plain, white tiles for answers. She was right, of course, as usual. Even if he hadn't realized that was what he had been doing until she called him on it. He was just going to have to go for it and hope that it worked. And hope that no one was caught in the process.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kurt watched as the light played along the wall, gradually ascending toward the ceiling as the sun went down outside of his window. Despite the fact that it was the same cot, pillow and blanket that he'd had in the holding cell for almost a week, he was overjoyed to be above ground again. Well, overjoyed was probably too strong a statement. But at least he knew he was safe from punishment. Until the next time the Officials came beating down his door.

He hadn't even attempted to see Blaine or Santana since his release. He was still slightly terrified of a misstep, of anything that might be interpreted the wrong way by a third party, and that meant that his daily rounds took him away from Blaine and Santana's house rather than straight to it. He was only moderately surprised that neither of them had attempted to contact him. Perhaps they'd realized that it was far too risky to involve him in their planning. Maybe what he'd said to Blaine that day in the basement of the courthouse had led Blaine to believe that Kurt wasn't worth the fight.

Kurt had played that scene over and over again in his mind and he still couldn't believe he'd been that stubborn. Now he had no one. He missed Santana, of course, but he ached for Blaine. They'd grown so close over the last month and Kurt missed the way Blaine's body moved against his when they touched, when they fooled around, which they had as often as humanly possible on some days. Kurt sensed that Santana went to the community garden way more often than she really needed to, and Kurt was grateful for her understanding, and impressed that she rarely pressed for details. Her mind was so preoccupied with the escape plans that she didn't even seem like herself anymore. Every now and then, a glimmer of the old Santana would arise, but only for a moment. Kurt missed that part of her the most.

Kurt furrowed his brow as something caused a shadow to come across the light spot near the top of his wall. Turning to look out the open window, he almost fell out of his bed when Blaine's face was there, looking more than a little sheepish.

"Blaine!" he hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"Déjà vu, huh?" Blaine joked, but quickly stopped when he saw that Kurt did not appear to be amused. "I came to see you. I came to see if you'd come back."

"You're going to get caught—"

"Sure am," Blaine cut him off. "So will you just listen to me so that I can get back home before the goon squad comes looking for me?"

Kurt nodded wordlessly. Part of him wanted to remind Blaine that he was part of the goon squad himself, technically but he kept his mouth shut. He was anxious to hear where this was going.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," Blaine started. "I can't imagine how scary it was not knowing what would happen, but we need you back. I need you back. I can't do this without you and Santana and Marina can't do it without us. Kurt, for the past month, I've allowed myself to picture what life might be like for the two of us if we were actually allowed to live it together. It's pure heaven to think about and…I don't know how you feel about me, or how much you feel for me, but Kurt…"

Kurt watched as Blaine struggled to gather the courage to say what he'd come out to the barracks to say. He tried his best to silently encourage Blaine to say what he was hoping he'd say.

"I love you."

Kurt felt just as startled as Blaine looked when the words escaped his lips without permission. Kurt quickly threw a hand up to cover his mouth, wishing the words could be unheard and shoved back in, but it was too late. What if that wasn't what Blaine was going to say? Oh God, what if Kurt had just messed everything up with those few, honest words?

"I love you too, Kurt."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later, the plan was set. A timeline was nailed down and all they needed was for the right day to come along and they would be out. It was still a long shot, but it was a risk all of them were willing to take, especially when the potential outcome was so enticing.

As they each watched from their perspective posts, Kurt in the gardens, Santana at home and Blaine at the courthouse, they continued to plan. They made Plan B's and C's and D's and all the way through the alphabet, trying to anticipate any possible wrong turn or miscalculation.

But now a lot of it was down to luck. They knew that and they were willing to risk it as soon as the time was right.


	19. Chapter 19

It was four thirty in the morning exactly, according to the clock on the wall in their bedroom. Santana and Blaine had both been wide awake since early the morning before, despite the fact that they both recognized how much they needed to try to rest before attempting their escape. But now the time had come, and ready or not, they were climbing out of bed and gearing up.

The plan was to go to Dormitory B and fetch Marina outside of the chain link fence that bordered the property before meeting up with Kurt at the designated spot right past the community boundary line. Since he started working at the Official's headquarters, Blaine had gained useful knowledge about where the boundaries were more heavily guarded and where the weak spots were. They'd picked the weakest and hoped for the best.

Their bags were already packed. Over the past few weeks, the bags had been disassembled and reassembled, items voted in and out, in order to make the lightest, yet most well-equipped packs. They had no idea how long they'd have to travel or how far a distance, so trying to come up with the perfect ratio of supplies to ease of travel was difficult. In the end, they'd packed more scavenging tools than actual food, with Marina promising to smuggle an old camping guide of edible plants from the sorry excuse for a library in her dormitory.

"You ready?" Blaine asked quietly as they moved around in the near dark. Turning on lights at this time in the morning would have been entirely too risky.

"More than I've ever been for anything in my entire life," Santana answered confidently. It was true. She'd been waiting for this opportunity ever since she and all the other Lima kids had been bussed here and unceremoniously dumped into their respective dormitories. It was like her whole life had been leading up to this one moment in time.

Of course, she was nervous as hell. What if they didn't all make it to the check point? What if the house had been tapped this whole time and the Officials were just waiting outside for them to make their escape? What if it was much more treacherous in the wild than any of them thought? Santana shook her head firmly. The time for worrying about such things had come and gone. Now it was time to act confidently. Channeling the old, fierce Santana that she'd always known was deep down inside of her, she brushed past Blaine with her pack, motioning with her head for him to follow.

"Let's do this."

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Marina paced around the outside of the fence. It hadn't been nearly as hard to sneak out of the large dorm room she'd shared with at least forty other girls. She figured it was because no one expected a fourteen year old girl to try to escape the dormitory. But they didn't know Marina, and they certainly underestimated her older sister, Santana.

As she'd crept from her bed, pulled out her backpack and lightly tiptoed down the long corridor toward the girls bathroom, she'd been startled by someone loudly clearing their throat. The old, barren hallway caused the sound to echo and reverberate so that it seemed like the noise had come from directly behind her. Turning around swiftly, she'd been relieved to find that the noise was coming from the room where the dorm mothers slept with the door open.

With a suppressed sigh of relief, Marina had continued until she reached the bathroom. Squinting in the dark, she'd made her way to the last stall, climbed on the back of the toilet and carefully pushed open the small window. Finally finding a reason to be thankful for the narrow, boyish hips she'd been cursed with, she'd pushed her way up and wiggled through the comically small window onto the ground below. She'd half-expected to be greeted with bright lights and the Official's squad, but it was just as dark and quiet outside the building as it had been inside. At that point, running swiftly to the fence and climbing over it had been a piece of cake and now she simply had to wait. It was a quarter until five according to her watch, which meant, if Blaine and Santana were running on schedule, they should be arriving any minute.

Sure enough, within a few moments, Marina heard rustling about fifty yards away. Just in case it wasn't the two of them, Marina hid behind the trunk of a large tree, waiting until they came in sight to make her presences known.

"San!" she cried out softly as she embraced her big sister in a hug for the first time since she'd graduated from the dormitories. The only thing that kept her from bursting into tears at the sight of her was knowing that Santana would want her to keep it together right now, and Marina would do just about anything to make her proud.

"Hey sweetie," Santana greeted softly and lovingly, squeezing her little sister tightly. She wanted to stay that way for a while, but she knew that they needed to get moving if they were going to meet Kurt at the designated time.

"Sorry guys," Blaine spoke up quietly and apologetically. "We need to keep moving."

"You're right," Santana whispered, finally pulling back from her sister. "Let's go get Kurt and get out of here."

The three of them travelled in swift silence, trying their best to make as little noise as possible. It was about a two mile trip to the meeting spot with Kurt and their goal was to get there by a quarter after five. If all went as planned, they would meet up with Kurt and begin travelling northwest. In the end, they'd decided to risk returning to Lima to see if the rumors were true. At least it would be an area that Kurt and Santana were familiar with.

As they came to the agreed-upon location, the three of them looked around, trying to locate Kurt.

"He should be here," Santana said nervously, squinting at her watch. "He was supposed to be here at five."

Blaine, Santana and Marina all looked around nervously before a rustle and a thump from behind them made all three jump and turn around.

"I'm here," Kurt announced softly with a goofy grin.

"You scared the shit out of me!" Santana growled, smacking Kurt hard across the back of the head, earning a wounded look from him. "Where the hell were you?"

Kurt pointed up to a tree above them. "I thought it would be safer to wait up there for you guys," he shrugged.

"But," Blaine started, sounding confused. "The nearest branch is at least fifteen feet off the ground, how did you…"

"I'm a strong climber," Kurt answered simply, and Blaine had to work hard to push the image of Kurt's inner thigh muscles flexing as he shimmied up the tree out of his mind.

"Whatever," Santana grunted, rolling her eyes. "We need to get moving."

With that, they were off. While they were pleasantly surprised that it had seemed so easy to escape so far, they were paranoid that they'd forgotten something. Surely if it were this easy, people would be escaping left and right.

And then they found the catch.

"Um, guys?" Marina called out meekly from the front of the pack. They'd been travelling for about a mile past the boundary line when the younger girl stopped dead in her tracks. Like a cartoon train that had halted on a dime, the other three, who'd been travelling in a single-file line, all piled up behind her and stopped as well.

"What is it, Mary?" Santana asked somewhat impatiently. It was too early to begin taking breaks.

Marina didn't answer. Instead she just pointed ahead of her, and as they all raised their gazes to look, they saw what she was referring to. Up ahead, about fifty yards ahead was a giant wall. As their eyes travelled up the seemingly unending block, they finally saw the top. It was about fifty feet high and in the bright moonlight, they could see several layers of spiraling barbed wire, creating even more of a barrier.

In silence, the group travelled onward until they reached the smooth stone wall. Kurt tentatively stuck out his hand and brushed it, searching for some kind of traction, anything that would give him an indication of how difficult it might be to scale the wall.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. Even with his strong climbing skills, there was no way they would be able to overcome this.

"What are we going to do, San?" Marina asked in a trembling voice, too afraid now to try to steady it.

"Don't worry, we'll think of something," Santana assured, but now she understood why people were dragged from the woods trying to escape. They must have all done exactly what there were doing. Stealing away in the middle of the night, only to come across this barrier and be caught. Well, there was no way she was going to let that happen.

"We can't go back now," Blaine muttered looking up at the sky. "It's already five thirty and the sun will be up soon. There's no way we can get Marina back in time and still be back at the house before someone notices we're gone."

"How are we going to climb over this?" Santana asked. All we have is a little rope, but we need a grappling hook or something and even then, there's the barbed wire."

"Maybe if we travel along the edge, there'll be a break or something," Marina offered. "The wall is too big to be built all the way around, right?"

"Guys," Kurt spoke up softly. The three continued their discussions, unaware that Kurt had said anything.

"Guys," he said again, this time louder. Finally the other three heard him and turned in his direction expectantly.

"We can't go over," he continued. "We have to go under."

"But how do we even know how deep we'd need to dig?" Blaine asked, frustration and panic coloring the edges of his words. "We don't have enough time and we don't have any shovels."

"We need to get somewhere and hide for today," Kurt explained, sounding eerily calm amidst his three frantic companions. "They'll come searching once the sun is up and they realize we're all gone, so we need to find a place we won't be caught. Then when the sun goes down again we begin digging."

"What if they keep searching at night?" Santana asked.

"Then we stay hidden until they've given up," Kurt answered.

"And what if it takes them weeks to do that?" Santana pushed back, anger masking her fear.

"Then we hide for longer," Kurt explained forcefully. "Santana, we're doing this. There's no turning back now. The time for doubts and fear has passed and now it's time for action. I need you to be the old Santana, the one who's not afraid of anything. We all need that from you, especially Marina. Now, are you ready to do this?"

Santana stared at her friend in front of her. She was impressed and a bit taken aback by the ferocity in his eyes. She'd never been prouder of him than in this moment, but now wasn't the time to address that. He was right. This was the only logical course of action, the only hope they had for still making their plan escape work.

"Let's do it," she announced, and Kurt quickly launched into instructing the group.

"Okay," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I think we need to hide in the trees. This whole forest is creating a thick canopy and if we can climb high enough, we'll be completely hidden from the ground. Marina and Santana, you two take the guidebook and try to find some edible plants and bring them back here. Blaine, you see if you can locate a stream or some other water source and bring as much as you can back in the empty bottles we brought and I'll try to find a good cluster of trees to take refuge in. We'll all meet back here in thirty minutes before the sun rises and climb up. Agreed?"

"Agreed," the other three answered, eternally grateful that at least one among them had kept his wits about him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Precisely thirty minutes later, the group met up again at the same spot. The girls were carrying several bundles of leaves and stems, having thankfully run across a good number of edible plants about a quarter of a mile from the meeting place. Blaine too had been relatively successful, having found a creek running parallel to the wall at a point farther south from where they'd ended up.

Kurt had found a cluster of trees about a hundred yards from the wall that seemed perfect. When they arrived at it, all three looked at Kurt somewhat skeptically.

"Kurt, how are we supposed to get up there," Santana hissed. "The branches are too high up and I doubt we've got the same climbing ability as you."

"We don't want something with low branches," Kurt explained. "Those will be the first the Official's squad checks. These, they won't even bother with because they won't think anyone is capable of climbing them."

"So how do we get up there?" Marina asked quietly.

"I'll hoist you guys up to the lowest branch and follow up behind," Kurt explained simply, as if explaining how to do the most mundane of tasks.

"You're not going to be able to lift me—" Santana started to argue, but was interrupted by Kurt's arms wrapping tightly around her thighs, hoisting her off the ground as if she were weightless.

"Lock your knees and grab onto the trunk," he instructed. She did as she was told and in one swift motion, Kurt had let go of her thighs and bent down, positioning her feet on his shoulders before standing up straight, moving Santana within reaching distance of the branch.

"The hell?" Santana muttered, not believing what had just happened.

"Can you reach the branch?" Kurt asked, holding her ankles to steady her.

"I think so," Santana answered, looking up to the branch just slightly out of her reach. "I'll have to jump a bit."

"Do it," Kurt said, letting go of her ankles and preparing himself for her to launch off.

Within a few seconds, she was hoisting herself up onto the branch and staring down at the group.

"What the hell was that, Kurt?" She asked, shaking her head with a small smile. "How did you…never mind." She cut herself off. There would be time to inquire about Kurt's hidden, super human strength when they were all safely in the tree.

"Come on, Marina, your next," Kurt reached out for her with a smile. Within another thirty seconds, she too was in the tree and Kurt turned his attention to Blaine, who'd been silent and slack-jawed since the entire conversation about the height of the branches had started.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, with genuine concern. Blaine couldn't answer. He couldn't stop staring at Kurt's perfectly cut, lean arm muscles, which he'd never properly noticed before, and which were now swollen with the effort of the last few minutes. He couldn't remember ever being so turned on in his life.

"Yeah," Blaine finally answered, licking his dry lips. After throwing the water supply up to the girls to lessen his weight, he found himself being hoisted up much like the girls had been by his boyfriend. Once he was safely in the tree, the girls begin climbing up while Blaine stayed on the first branch to make sure Kurt was truly able to get up himself. Kurt stood below, panting in spite of himself with the true effort it had taken to get the other three safely off of the ground.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Blaine asked nervously, looking between his boyfriend and the quickly brightening horizon. They only had a few minutes left of dusk and Kurt needed to be in the tree before it was too late.

"Yeah," Kurt panted, leaning heavily against the tree. "I just need a little break, that's all."

"Kurt, um, I don't think we have a whole lot of time," Blaine added. Time seemed to be moving at ten times the pace it had been previously.

"I know," Kurt acknowledged, pushing himself off the trunk. His arms felt like jelly, and he was starting to wonder if he'd pushed himself too far. Blaine was right though, he had to get up to that branch quickly. He knew that at this point, their absence would have already been noticed and the Officials would be flooding the forest at any moment. He needed to get up that tree.

"Okay, I'm coming," Kurt announced, gritting his teeth and latching onto the trunk. It became obvious almost immediately that his arms would be of little assistance to him during the climb and instead he focused all of his efforts on his legs as they tightly gripped the sides of the trunk. With slow, deliberate movements, he made his way up, grunting with the effort, until he finally felt Blaine's arms move underneath his armpits, lifting him the rest of the way to the branch.

The two boys sat there panting with relief. They were finally off the ground, all four of them. Now they just needed to climb up out of sight. Thankfully the branches were thick and close together so they could climb quickly and with little effort. By the time they reached Santana and Marina, they were a good seventy five feet off the ground. The four of them found a group of intertwining branches that were close enough together that they wouldn't have to worry about plummeting to the ground if they lost their balance.

Now all they could do was wait and see what would happen. They had no idea if they would be stuck up there for a day or a week, but however long it was, they were prepared. They would do whatever it took to escape from the community or they would die trying.


	20. Chapter 20

It was a long night among the tall tree branches for the four escapees. Despite the fact that they were all exhausted from getting next to no sleep the night before, they all found it hard to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. They'd decided to take shifts keeping a lookout, just like what the characters from their favorite movies and books they recalled from long ago would have done in this type of situation. Kurt agreed to watch out first. Unlike the others, he had managed to squeeze a few hours of sleep back in the barracks. For whatever reason, the thought of escaping the community didn't cause him near as much sleepless anxiety as being locked up in the courthouse basement for nearly a week had. After that experience, Kurt felt like he was ready for anything. It was a good thing too. So far in their short journey, Kurt's level head was the only thing keeping the group from complete meltdown.

Once they had all made it safely to the designated cluster of branches, they'd barely had time to catch their collective breath before Marina broke down into hysterics. The escape, the quite literal block in their path, and seeing her sister for the first time in months, must have been too much for the young girl, and while she was definitely every bit as fierce as her older sister, she was still a child and a very scared one at that.

"I want to go back," Marina had sobbed, chest heaving and fat tears squeezing from her eyes. Santana looked at her like she was crazy and was about to ask her if she'd lost her damned mind when Kurt got her attention.

"The community is all she knows," he told her quietly in her ear while Marina sobbed into a dazed Blaine's chest. "She doesn't remember life before, how good it was. She's terrified, go easy on her. She'll come around if she sees you being strong and level-headed."

Santana nodded and swallowed thickly. She wasn't used to this side of her younger sister. Sure, she'd spent many nights rocking her sister to sleep in the dormitory as she wept for their parents or new clothes or more food, but never had Marina expressed a desire to stay in the community. After putting her own emotions in check, Santana gathered Marina from Blaine and spoke to her softly as they rocked and eventually the younger Lopez girl calmed enough to fall into a light sleep.

The others, however, were wide awake.

"You guys need to at least try," Kurt whispered pleadingly. The sun was up now and they were keeping as still and silent as possible, all three keeping their ears pricked for any possible noise coming from the direction of the community boundary line to the east of them. So far, the forest had been silent, with the exception of squirrels and rabbits rustling by from time to time.

"I can't," Blaine confessed. He looked about ten years older than he had just a few weeks prior. Stress and lack of sleep had a way of doing that to a person.

"Just close your eyes and focus on feeling weightless, both of you," Kurt instructed. Blaine and Santana exchanged skeptical looks, but did what they were told. "Start with your feet. Concentrate on them until it feels like they're as light as clouds. Then move up to your calves, knees and thighs. Keep going until you reach your head and don't open your eyes."

It was something Kurt's mother had told him when he was little and having a hard time falling asleep. He would lie in bed on his back and do exactly what she'd told him to, and it never failed that he would be asleep before he reached his head. After a few minutes, he could see that it was working with his two friends as well. Santana first, and then Blaine. Kurt allowed himself a small smile before turning his full attention to the forest below.

He considered their group beyond lucky for what they found once they reached their stopping point among the branches. The trees in the woods were close together already, but this particular cluster had grown even closer than the others, branches intertwining with one another, almost forming a perfect basket of sorts to hold the escapees. If this group of trees was in someone's backyard (prior to the outbreak, of course) a child would have no need for a tree house. That is, the cluster of trees was the tree house in this case. Their thick and sturdy branches provided a flooring of sorts and plenty of shade and concealed the group perfectly from the ground. Kurt couldn't have asked for a better outcome, especially since he'd chosen the cluster nearly at random. Maybe it was a sign that they were going to make it, Kurt hoped.

Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, it was a little past noon when Blaine finally stirred from his sleep. He sat up with a jolt and Kurt quickly grabbed his ankle to get his attention and through his hand over his own mouth to signal to Blaine to stay quiet. It was a good thing he did, because in that moment, Blaine had forgotten where they were or why they were there and without Kurt's intervention, he surely would have made a bit of noise trying to figure it out. Within a few seconds, however, he remembered and allowed himself to lean back against the tree trunk he'd been sleeping on.

"How did you sleep?" Kurt silently mouthed to him. He shrugged and then nodded slightly.

"Okay, I guess. Considering," Blaine mouthed back. "It's your turn."

Kurt nodded. "So far there's been nothing."

Blaine looked surprised at this news. He felt like he should be relieved at this news, but for some reason, the fact that no one had come this way looking for them only caused him more concerned. He felt much better when he felt like he knew what the Officials were up to. Surely they'd noticed all four of them missing by now. He watched as Kurt closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep within just a few minutes. _He must have been exhausted,_ Blaine thought to himself.

As he watched Kurt sleep, he replayed the events from earlier that morning with Kurt. The way he'd taken control of everything and kept a level head had been impressive to Blaine, but even more impressive was Kurt's unexpected and heretofore unknown physical strength. Of course Blaine was well aware of the dominant side of Kurt's personality, the way he took control when the two were engaged in a heavy make-out session being evidence of that. But even when they'd wrestled playfully in the past, Blaine had no problem overpowering Kurt, quickly causing him to cry uncle while Blaine tickled his sides. After what Blaine saw a few hours earlier however, he knew that Kurt had been letting him win this whole time. For God's sake, Blaine's beautiful, amazing and seemingly delicate boyfriend had all but tossed the three of them into a tree before shimmying up it himself like it was something he did every morning when he woke up. Where had that come from? And why hadn't he ever shared it with Blaine?

The more Blaine thought about it, the more he realized that Kurt didn't do anything without having a really good reason. The aftermath of the outbreak left a lot of people their age with that quality, but Blaine had never met someone so deliberate in his life as Kurt. Everything, from the path he took on his work route, to the number of grapes he ate at lunch, everything Kurt did, he did with a specific purpose and an anticipated outcome in mind. If Kurt hadn't told him about his physical strength, Blaine determined, it was for good reason. But why? It was something he decided to ask Kurt, once they were in a position to talk about such mundane and silly things. For now they just had to focus on getting over, or under, as it were, that giant wall.

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"Kurt, wake up!"

Kurt began to slowly stir as he heard Blaine whispering to him frantically. His eyes quickly shot open as he immediately gained his bearings. They were up in the trees, waiting out the day, and Blaine sounded scared.

"What is it?" he whispered back, looking into Blaine's wide eyes.

"They just passed by here," Blaine explained. "About ten minutes ago. It was five of them and they walked up to the wall and travelled the perimeter for about fifty yards in each direction before turning back."

"Did they say anything?" Kurt asked, relieved to know that they appeared to be out of immediate danger, but eager to hear what happened.

"I couldn't really make out what they were saying, but I heard them mention Dormitory B and something about footprints leading in this direction."

"Shit," Kurt cursed. "I didn't even think about covering those up. Did they come near our trees?"

"No," Blaine answered. "They just went straight for the wall."

"Well that's a good sign, I hope," Kurt mumbled. Maybe they would make it out of there undetected after all.

By this point, Santana and Marina were both beginning to stir and within a few minutes, the entire group was awake and alert, formulating an immediate plan of action.

"So that's good," Santana said optimistically, once Blaine had again recounted the previous events. "That's means we should be fine to leave tonight, right?"

"I don't think so, San," Kurt shook his head. "It's going to take more than a night to make it underneath that wall. We still don't even know how far into the ground it's anchored."

"How the hell are we going to get out of here then, Hummel?" she snapped, fully realizing that she was taking out her frustration on the wrong person. "Don't you think the Officials will notice a giant hole being dug over the course of a couple of days or a week?"

"We're just going to have to work on it during the nights and camouflage it during the day," Kurt explained. "Make it blend in with the rest of the ground just in case they come back out this way looking for us."

Santana shook her head but remained silent. She didn't like the plan. Well, she didn't like any plan that didn't involve them making it across that wall within the next twenty four hours, really. Kurt understood though, and tried to remain patient with his friend.

"It's going to be okay, San," he assured. "I'm getting you guys on the other side of that wall if it's the last thing I do."

"And what about you?" Blaine asked softly.

Kurt took a deep breath before answering. "I'm going to do everything to get there too. But not until I know the three of you are safe on the other side."

Blaine contemplated him curiously. He had no idea where this side of Kurt had come from, but it was the most amazing thing he'd ever witnessed.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night had been a flurry of activity. Kurt had convinced the girls to stay up in the trees while he and Blaine went down to assess the situation below. A quick, experimental dig into the ground with a couple of sharp-edged rocks they'd located revealed the ground around the wall to be much more tightly packed than it appeared upon first glance. That wasn't a good sign. They searched around for a good place to start digging, a place they felt could be easily covered back up, and one that was close enough to their tree cluster that they could make it back, hopefully undetected if need be. They found a spot, about twenty yards from the cluster, which seemed adequate. There was a lot of loose brush in the immediate area and the ground seemed a little more forgiving than in other areas.

Kurt and Blaine spent several hours digging, taking short breaks for water or to wipe their brow, before finally sitting back to observe their progress. They'd only managed about a two square foot hole approximately three feet deep.

"At this rate, it'll take a couple of weeks," Kurt panted, discouraged. It definitely wasn't the progress he'd been hoping for. Especially since time was of the essence.

"It's getting light," Blaine said, looking up toward the sky. "We need to cover up and get back."

Kurt reluctantly agreed and helped Blaine cover the hole with the brush, attempting to make it appear as if it had never been bothered in the first place. After several minutes, the boys stepped back and studied their work.

"Looks good," Kurt announced with an accomplished nod. "Let's get out of here."

With that, the two boys trudged back to the tree cluster and climbed back up, Kurt helping Blaine like the last time. Now they just had to wait out the day and start all over again in the evening.


	21. Chapter 21

_The punishment for attempted escape is death._

_-Community Member Handbook, Chapter 12, Crimes Against the Community_

Kurt, Santana, Blaine and Marina had spent five days and five nights living up among the tree branches. Depending on whom among them you asked, progress was either surprisingly swift or painstakingly slow. Kurt and Blaine remained optimistic, while the long days and short nights were starting to wear on the girls. On the second night of digging, Santana went down along with the boys to help take turns. In shifts, they devised a system where two would dig while the third would search for food to replenish that which they ate the previous day. Meanwhile, Marina remained up in the tree, keeping her ears and eyes open for any danger coming towards the group.

The task was a rather boring one for the fourteen year old. She spent a lot of time hanging from various branches, swinging back and forth to try to give her muscles a work out. Sitting still all day was beginning to take a toll on her body. In the back of her mind, she worried that if she didn't at least try to stretch out every few hours, she would be the first to fall if the group needed to run.

Now, after five full days and nights, the entire group was starting to feel worn down. If it was taking this much energy just to try to get out of the Community, how in the world were they going to prepare for what came next?

As the sun rose on the sixth day, the group exchanged weary glances with each other. The hole was becoming very substantial, and about a third of the way through the night, they'd finally pushed past the halfway mark. The wall had ended up being about seven feet deep below the ground and by the time they called it quits for the night, the tunnel was solidly on the other side of the wall. As excited as they were, they knew that it was going to be ten times more difficult digging up rather than down.

They were talking in hush tones about a plan of action for digging and disposing of the dirt for the next night when a high-pitch whining noise filled the air.

It was a noise they were all familiar with, but could never quite get used to.

It was the noise that signaled someone had tried to escape.

Marina began to whimper softly, convinced that they had somehow been caught.

"Shh, sweetie, it's okay," Santana comforted her softly. "It's not us, they only sound the siren when they're taking someone to the commons for punishment, remember?"

Even as she spoke the words, Santana felt goose bumps travelling up her arms. She shot a silent look to Kurt and Blaine across from her and they looked just as nauseated as she felt.

Kurt looked up at Blaine from where he lay across Blaine's chest. He'd almost drifted off to sleep, comforted by the deep vibrations emanating from Blaine's chest against his cheek while the two of them were talking right before the noise kicked in. Blaine looked back down at Kurt and hugged him closer against his body.

No one spoke as the noise carried on for ten minutes, as it always did, giving the members of the community enough time to arrive at the commons. When the sound finally died out, all four of them strained to try to hear what was going on. The commons were about two miles away from their hideout, but if the loudspeakers were used, which they always were, perhaps they would have a shot at hearing it.

Within a few moments of the siren ending, a voice could be heard off in the distance, but it was too far away for any of them to make out what was going on.

"Can you hear?" Blaine whispered to Kurt, and Kurt shook his head.

"You?" Blaine turned to Santana and she too indicated that she couldn't. It was a frustrating feeling, knowing something was going on, that someone had tried to leave, and not being able to hear the details. Escape attempts weren't very common, so to know that someone else had tried so close to their own attempt, and had been caught, was beyond nerve-wracking.

About five minutes later, the voice could no longer be heard in the distance, and the group held their collective breath as they waited for what they knew came next.

The execution.

They knew it usually took about five minutes to get the offender situated in front of the firing squad and to deliver orders to the squad. Sure enough, approximately five minutes from when the voice stopped, a handful of shots rang out in near-unison. Marina squeezed her eyes shut and began to cry again. Santana looked horrified and even Kurt could feel Blaine trembling underneath him.

They remained silent as they tried to absorb what had just happened. Until now, the idea that they could get caught remained in the back of their minds, overpowered by the thrill of attempting to escape. But now that fear was brought alive, in full color, as they came face-to-face with what would happen to them if they were caught themselves.

Barely had enough time passed to try and wrap their minds around this idea when another series of shots rang out.

A second execution.

Multiple executions were rare. Usually, people escaped by themselves rather than in pairs or groups, since it was rare to find someone willing to risk getting killed in order to help you escape. Especially considering the numbers touted by the Officials. In the past ten years, there had been forty-eight escape attempts and zero successes. That statistic didn't exactly inspire most people to try.

The attempts had definitely waned over the years, from a combination of the poor odds and the fact that more and more people were becoming complacent within the community, as the younger children from the outbreak generation grew up, remembering nothing of life outside of the confines of the community.

"Do you think that's it?" Kurt whispered softly, looking up into Blaine's concerned eyes.

"I don't know," Blaine answered honestly, hoping with everything he had in him that it was.

Moments later, however, more shots sounded. Three people dead now, more than anyone in the group had ever seen at one time. If two were rare, a group of three attempting escape was just about unheard of. They were all aware that they themselves broke the mold when it came to numbers, but it only made sense to travel as a group. It became immediately apparent on that very first night that it would take each and every one of them to even hope to get out alive.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When everything was said and done, four executions occurred that morning, the same number that was in their own group. By the time the night had fallen, none of them were eager to climb down the tree and resume work. They all seemed to be in shock over the events of that morning, and despite the fact that they hadn't heard any noise or activity in their area for days, they were too scared to test their luck just yet.

"I don't think we can afford to waste a night," Kurt whispered, trying to convince his shell-shocked friends. "It's awful what happened, but we can't let it distract us from our mission."

Santana and Blaine didn't respond, and Kurt knew better than to expect Marina to side with anyone but her big sister.

"Fine," Kurt finally conceded, throwing his hands up. "I'll go down alone and the three of you can keep a lookout. Just…just give me the signal if anyone's coming my way."

He started to head down to the next layer of branches when Blaine's hand on his forearm caused him to pause.

"I'm coming, Kurt," Blaine announced reluctantly, as if he was agreeing to help Kurt hide a body. "I can't let you go by yourself."

Kurt thought about arguing with him, but he knew better. He needed a second person with him if he had hopes of making any progress that night.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so they continued on, night after night, still with no incident. After twelve full days, the hole was finally nearing completion, and they waited in quiet excitement for that thirteenth night.

The day moved excruciatingly slow, each hour that passed felt like a decade. Knowing how close they were to freedom, and still not quite believing their luck in having not being caught, they were almost giddy with anticipation.

They allowed themselves to imagine what life would be like out in the wild. They felt confident in their abilities to live off the land, since their attempts over the past two weeks had been successful. They were ready to eat something other than leaves and the rare handful of berries and even discussed the possibility of being able to hunt and cook wild game.

Finally, the nighttime arrived and they waited a few minutes longer than usual to descend as a group from the cluster of trees they'd made their home over their time in the woods. As each one dropped from the last branch of the tree, they pressed a palm to the trunk, paying homage to the fact that, in essence, that tree had kept them alive.

Within thirty minutes, Blaine, who was at the head digging, broke through the ground on the other side. Quickly widening the hole, gritting his teeth with the exertion of rushing the task, he climbed his way out and called for the rest of the group to follow.

With a wide grin, he extracted first Marina from the hole and then Santana. As the girls scrambled up from the ground, they hugged each other closely and didn't bother hiding the volume of their voices as they laughed. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, finally being free.

Blaine reached down for Kurt as the other boy wiggled his way underneath the wall. Their eyes made contact and they exchanged tired smiles as Kurt finally reached his arm up to Blaine to help pull him out. Blaine was reaching for Kurt's hand when the expression on Kurt's face changed from one of elation to absolute terror.

"GOT HIM!" a deep, gravelly voice shouted out from the other side of the wall. Blaine watched, frozen in horror as Kurt began disappearing from his side of the tunnel, obviously being dragged back out from the other side.

"Blaine!" Kurt cried out, his nails digging into the side of the tunnel, trying to break free from the strong hand around his ankle. It was no use. Whoever had a hold on him was much stronger than Kurt, especially after two weeks of digging and hoisting and living off of wild plants.

"Oh my God, Kurt!" Blaine screamed, watching helplessly as Kurt's head, then arm, then hand disappeared from sight. He whipped his attention back to Santana and Marina.

"Run, damn it!" he hissed at them and before either could respond, Blaine was diving back in the hole after Kurt.

"Blaine, wait!" Santana called back out to him, but it was too late. Blaine was out of sight, and the girls were left, listening in terror to the scuffle occurring on the other side of the wall. After a few seconds, Santana snapped out of her daze and kicked into action.

"Let's go!" she barked at Marina, yanking the younger girl by the arm as she took off into the woods.

"But what about—"

"We can't worry about that right now," Santana cut her off, begging her own tears to stay at bay until they were out of danger. "They're strong, they'll make it out and they'll find their way to us when they do."

Santana knew what she was telling Marina was probably a lie. Two worn out and underfed boys against a hoard of Officials were certainly no match. But she knew that they would both want her to leave with Marina. If their lives were wasted because of what happened with Blaine and Kurt, then the boys would have died in vain. But Santana refused to believe that the two boys wouldn't make it out. It was too painful to even imagine.

The girls ran until their legs couldn't carry them any farther, and they limped along until they found a tiny cave-like area down the slope of a hill. Carrying brush to the opening and sealing themselves in, they huddled together and finally allowed themselves to break down.

Sobbing, they clutched onto each other and prayed with every fiber of their being for the boys that had set them free.


	22. Chapter 22

To Kurt, the worst part about being dragged out of the hole by his ankle, aside from the pain of his fingernails being ripped as he desperately tried to pull away and regain control, was the look on Blaine's face as he realized exactly what was happening. He'd never seen someone's facial expression change so quickly or so dramatically.

"Blaine!" Kurt cried out, just as he was pulled beneath the wall, unable to see him anymore. Loose dirt filled his mouth and he coughed it out while kicking his free foot, trying to make contact wherever he could on the person keeping him from freedom.

Whoever it was, they were incredibly strong. Sure, Kurt wasn't a big guy by any means, but the person dragging him out did so with very little exertion. Before he knew it, Kurt was back out of the hole and flung onto the ground on his stomach. Before he could roll over onto his back, he was picked up again and thrown into a wide tree trunk. He made an involuntary grunt as the air rushed out of him and he fought to stay upright. Before he could move however, another person pushed him back against the tree and crossed his forearm across Kurt's throat, pinning him there with his feet on his tiptoes.

Despite his shock at the quick turn of events, he took the opportunity of being frozen in place to assess his surroundings. There were three of them. Big, hulking types that Kurt knew he stood no chance against. Especially not now, not in the position he was currently in.

"Thought you could make it, huh?" one of the men growled with an evil smirk. "Thought you could just prance your way out?"

Kurt didn't respond. He probably couldn't have, even if he wanted to. The arm across his throat was limiting his breath and his vision was beginning to grow a bit fuzzy.

"It seems the actions of you and your little friends have sparked somewhat of a revolution in the Community," the man who'd pulled Kurt out of the hole added. All three men were now crowded around him. "We've had four attempts in the past few weeks. Surely you heard the sirens out here."

So there were others, Kurt thought to himself. He wanted to ask if they were individuals or a part of a group, but something told him that he wasn't in a position to be asking for anything from these people except for mercy on his life.

"And you'll make five," the first man said. "Of course, we'll have to make up something about the other three being executed on sight out here. Can't have the Community thinking that any of you little queers actually succeeded, can we? But you, we've got big plans for you. They'll be talking about you for years to come. You'll be a cautionary tale for all the little children with big dreams in the dormitories. How does that sound?"

At this point, Kurt's vision was edging on complete black, and the words out of the men's mouths were sounding muffled and far off. He kicked out lamely a few times, one last ditch effort to free himself, but it was no use.

Just before he blacked out, he heard someone cry out and in the next instant, the pressure was off his throat and Kurt crumpled to the ground. Gasping in precious air he crawled away on his hands and knees from the chaos that was forming in front of him.

It had been Blaine crying out, as he swung one of their hole-digging rocks as hard as he could against the head of the guy who had Kurt pinned. Kurt watched in shock as the other two advanced on Blaine, who was frantically backing away with the rock held high above his head.

"Kurt, run!" he shouted, swinging the rock haphazardly as the two closed in on him. The third guy was out cold on the ground, and even in the darkness, Kurt could see the blood pooling out from the impact point.

Kurt crawled over to the hole, but instead of abiding by Blaine's order, he picked up one of the sharp, heavy rocks himself while still gulping in deep, painful breaths of air.

The two were closing in on Blaine quickly and it was evident that the small boy with the rock was no match for the trained Officials. Kurt watched as one of the men grabbed Blaine's forearm, the one whose hand clutched the rock, and jerked it down, causing Blaine to double over. Taking that as his cue, Kurt launched himself up with every bit of energy he had left and tackled the other man from behind. Startled, the man fell hard to the ground and, without thinking too much about what he was about to do, Kurt raised his rock high and smashed it as hard as he could into the man's skull.

The crunching noise it made on impact almost certainly would have caused Kurt to puke or pass out at any other time, but now his adrenaline was ruling his body and all he could do was clamber off of him to go help Blaine with the last one.

Unfortunately, Blaine wasn't having nearly as much luck with the last one as they'd had with the first two. By the time Kurt was running toward them, the man had Blaine on the ground, straddling him. Kurt saw something flash in the moonlight and with a growing dread, he realized the man had a knife in his hand. Raising it up in the air, he heard Blaine cry out and Kurt prayed he could get there fast enough.

The man must have heard Kurt coming, because at the last second, before Kurt was about to pounce, the man twisted his body and rammed his shoulder hard into Kurt's abdomen, immediately sending Kurt to the ground.

It was the break Blaine had been waiting for. As the man turned his attention for a split second toward Kurt, Blaine picked up his rock again and swung it as hard as he could. Blaine blinked as blood spattered onto his face and into his eyes. A shattered tooth landed on his cheek and the man collapsed on him with a groan.

"Kurt, help," Blaine winced as he struggled to extract himself from underneath the dead weight. Kurt was recovering from the blow to his stomach, but managed to stumble back to Blaine and helped roll the giant man off of him before helping him stand up.

They were both shaking as they embraced each other and Kurt couldn't remember feeling this relieved in his whole life.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked him gently in a trembling voice.

"Are you kidding me?" Kurt asked with a shaky smile. "You just saved my life, I'm more than okay. Are you? Did they hurt you?"

"Just a few scrapes," Blaine answered, smiling broadly before capturing Kurt's lips in a deep kiss.

"We need to get out of here," Kurt said after spending a few seconds in complete abandon with Blaine. Blaine nodded and they picked up their abandoned packs and made their way back to the hole. They knew if they waited too long, more troops would arrive, or the ones that were there would wake up. _If they wake up,_ Kurt thought to himself grimly. He was certain at least one was dead if not all three. He couldn't worry about that now though, he had to get himself and Blaine out of there and hopefully reunite back up with the girls.

"The girls!" Kurt spoke aloud, remembering for them for the first time as they made their way out of the hole on the other side of the community.

"I sent them running, Kurt," Blaine answered. "They should be long gone from here by now."

"Good," Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "Where do you think they went?"

"No clue," Blaine admitted. "I just kind of shouted at them and dove back in for you."

Kurt allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Blaine really was turning out to be his knight in shining armor.

"If I had to guess, I'd say they went this way," Kurt announced, pointing to the northwest. "It's the least cumbersome looking path, and if they were running, it would be the most logical choice."

"Let's head down and see what we can find," Blaine agreed wearily.

The two made their way as swiftly as possible with Kurt in the lead. There were only a few hours of nighttime left, and although they didn't expect the Officials to try to track them down out here, they still felt better travelling under the cover of night.

"I think we better start looking for a place to stop," Kurt called over his shoulder. They'd been traveling for about an hour and a half and the sky was transitioning from black to dark gray.

"Blaine?" Kurt called back again when he didn't receive an answer from the other boy. When Blaine didn't answer after another few seconds, Kurt stopped and turned around.

"Blaine!" he cried out. Blaine wasn't anywhere in sight. How long had they been separated? How long did Kurt travel, unaware that Blaine was no longer right behind him? He began tearing back through the woods, calling out Blaine's name every couple of yards. Finally he spotted the other boy, leaning heavily against a tree trunk. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief and rushed back to where he leaned.

"You should have told me you needed a break," Kurt said, the relief he had masquerading as exasperation in his voice. "I would have…"

Kurt trailed off as he took a closer look at Blaine. The boy was incredibly pale, any color seemed to have drained out long ago. His breaths were coming out ragged and his eyes seemed to be having a hard time focusing.

"I'm fine," Blaine gasped. "I just need…a little…break."

Something wasn't right about this. Kurt placed his hand against Blaine's cheek and was surprised at how cold it felt.

"There's something you're not telling me," Kurt accused, running his hands up and down Blaine's face, arms and chest. And then he found it. At first, he just thought it was sweat that had collected in a pool near the bottom of Blaine's shirt, but when Kurt lifted the garment, he saw the truth.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt choked when he saw the six inch gash across his abdomen. It was hard to tell under the moonlight and with his limited first aid knowledge, but the way it was affecting Blaine, it had to be a pretty serious wound. Kurt lightly touched the skin around it, earning a hiss of pain from Blaine. Kurt spent a few seconds panicking before forcing himself into survival mode.

He quickly stripped Blaine of his backpack and shirt, thankful for the tree that was there to help support Blaine as he was obviously not in a position to do it on his own. Spilling the contents of the pack onto the ground, Kurt flung items to either side, looking for the first aid materials they'd been hoarding for a month prior to their escape. Kurt had never been more thankful for this foresight.

"Got it," he whispered to himself as his hands finally landed on the water bottle and bandage he'd been looking for. He scrambled back to his feet with the items.

"Blaine?" he called out to the boy, who looked like he was going to pass out at any moment. "We're going to lay down for a minute, okay? But I need you to keep talking to me."

"'Kay," Blaine acknowledged, allowing Kurt to lower him into a laying position on the path. Kurt immediately went to work using the full water bottle to flush out the wound as best he could. Once it was clear, Kurt could see it was a fairly deep wound, and the blood began to pool again slowly, but immediately when the old blood was washed away. Kurt patted the wound carefully with a dry cloth.

"Ow!" Blaine cried out. "Kurt, stop!"

"I know it hurts," Kurt answered, his heart breaking a bit. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, I don't want to hurt you but I've got to get this clean."

Finally the wound was dry enough for Kurt to lay the clean bandage loosely against the wound. Blaine whimpered a bit as Kurt the roll of gauze he had to pin it in place. He wrapped it around Blaine's torso only twice, wanting to preserve the limited supplies and knowing that this kind of wound would take quite a while to heal.

Once the bandage was in place, Kurt placed a clean shirt over Blaine's head and helped him through the arm holes. Blaine was already starting to look a lot better than he had ten minutes previously.

"We've got to find somewhere to rest for the day," Kurt spoke.

"I don't think I can climb a tree," Blaine said distractedly.

"Me neither," Kurt agreed. "Maybe a ditch or something…I'm going to search around, okay? I won't go far, but I need to move you off this path."

"Hurry back," Blaine said, worry evident in his words. He didn't want to be left alone, especially since he was hardly in a position to defend himself.

Kurt gave him a soft kiss on the forehead and quickly darted off the path into the woods. He was only gone about five minutes when he returned with a smile.

"I found a place," he announced, leaning over to help Blaine sit up. "Brace yourself, this is probably going to hurt."

Hurt was an understatement. Blinding white light seared Blaine's vision as he sat up with Kurt's help. The pain and heat radiated from his side and no matter how careful Kurt was, it was still the worst pain Blaine had ever experienced. With a little more help, Blaine was standing up again and leaning heavily on Kurt.

"Do you think you can walk?" Kurt asked. Blaine nodded even though his eyes were still squeezed shut as he tried to quiet the waves of pain. After Kurt repacked the bag he'd emptied earlier, they began slowly making their way to the hiding place he'd found. After five painful minutes, Blaine heard a sound he hadn't been anticipating.

"Blaine!"

It was Marina's voice. The place Kurt had found was apparently the same one the girls had.

"How did…"

Blaine couldn't even finish his sentence as he looked back and forth between the girls and Kurt who were all grinning wildly.

"I was out here walking and I heard someone talking," Kurt explained. "It sounded like Santana, so I called out and the rest is history."

"I can't believe it," Blaine mumbled distractedly. As great as this news was, he was starting to feel weak again, unsure of how much longer he could stay upright. The smiles on the rest of the groups faces quickly dissolved and it became apparent that Kurt had taken a moment to quickly fill the girls in on Blaine's injuries.

"Let's get you inside," Santana spoke up, supporting him on his opposite side from where Kurt was.

"Inside?" he mumbled, sounding tired and confused.

"The girls found a little cave," Kurt explained. "It's pretty well hidden, so we should be safe."

Blaine nodded and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be led blindly into the hiding place. He could hear Santana and Kurt discussing softly who would stay up to watch him first.

As soon as they lowered him to the ground, Blaine out, snoring softly. Santana and Kurt finally embraced in a long, tight hug, both weeping quietly with tears of joy, fear, exhilaration and worry.

If they thought the hard part was escaping the community, they'd been swiftly reminded that the real battle was yet to come.


	23. Chapter 23

Any plans to take turns alternating between sleep and watching Blaine were quickly out the window when it became apparent that Blaine's condition was getting much worse. He had only been asleep for about two hours when Kurt first noticed the sheen on his forehead. Concerned, Kurt placed his hand lightly on Blaine's forehead.

"He's burning up," he whispered quietly to Santana. She and Marina were huddled together on the other side of the small cave. There was enough light from the early sun filtering through the brush covering the opening of their hideout to be able to see properly.

"Maybe we should look at it," Santana offered. "See if it's gotten any better. Maybe his body is just pushing through the healing process."

Kurt looked skeptical. Neither of them had received very much health education throughout the years, with the exception of extensive lessons on reproduction and childhood development for the Fertiles. Just then, Marina hopped up on her knees and crawled over to her pack and began dumping out the contents.

"What is it?" Santana asked, trying to keep her voice down for Blaine's sake. The boy was sweating profusely now and began shifting uncomfortably in his sleep.

"You know how you guys asked me to swipe that plant guide from the library?" she answered excitedly. "Well, when I went to find it, I found another book next to it on the shelf that I thought might come in handy."

Marina's hands finally landed on what she'd been looking for and she held it up in the air for Kurt and Santana to see.

"McAbee's Wilderness Guide: How to Survive Any Scenario in the Woods," Kurt read, squinting his eyes to make out the words from a distance. "Marina, have I told you lately that you're a genius?"

"Actually, you've never told me that," she smiled. "But you're welcome to start any time you'd like."

Kurt flashed her a quick grin before returning his attention to Blaine. Santana took the book from Marina and began searching for the section on wounds and signs of infection while Kurt reluctantly began cutting away from the bandage and wrap he'd put in place hours prior.

"Shit," he muttered as he lifted up the bandage to reveal the angry looking gash. It wasn't bleeding any more, but the skin was red and puffy around the wound and the bandage was covered in a yellow pus.

"Oh my God," Marina said, throwing a hand to her mouth and looking away.

"I cleaned it as well as I could," Kurt shook his head. "I don't understand, how did it get this bad so quickly?"

Santana didn't answer, she was alternating looking between the book and Blaine's injury with a worried expression. Kurt touched the raised skin around the gash with just his fingertips and was immediately greeting with a groan of pain from Blaine, who still didn't open his eyes or appear to wake up.

"Is he going to die?" Marina asked, tears gathering in his eyes.

"I…no, sweetie," Kurt assured with less confidence than he would have hoped for. "He's going to be okay, we just need to figure out how to help him. Santana?"

Finally Santana looked up from the book and met Kurt's gaze. Kurt didn't like what he saw in her eyes.

"It's definitely infected," Santana started with the obvious. "There's a couple of different things we can do."

"Okay, what are our options?"

"First, we can try using warm compresses," she continued, reading from the book. "It says to place a warm compress to the area for thirty minutes at a time, four times a day and changing the warm compress out when it cools. Then we bandage the wound in-between treatments and drain as necessary and push fluids."

"Where are we going to get warm compresses?" Kurt asked, his panic level starting to rise despite how calm he was trying to stay, mostly for Marina's sake.

"We can soak some cloths and leave them out in the sun," Marina offered through sniffles. "It's probably sunny enough out that if we placed them on rocks or something they might heat up."

"What's Plan B?" Kurt asked, hoping it would be a little easier and wouldn't expose them to the daylight in case the Officials had followed them across the wall.

"I don't think we want to do it," Santana answered cryptically with an odd look on her face. "It's dangerous and—"

"Just tell me what it is," Kurt interrupted, his impatience fueled by the fact that Blaine was in obvious pain, even though he was asleep.

"Maggot therapy," Santana answered reluctantly, earning an involuntary gag from her sister. "We leave the wound open for a day in an area with flies and then cover it back up. After a few days, there should be maggots and the maggots will eat the dead tissue. Once the dead tissue is gone, we remove the maggots and we place sterile bandages on the wound and it should heal properly."

Kurt winced. He couldn't imagine what the consequences might be if they somehow didn't do everything successfully with that plan. He imagined further and more severe infection was a risk, but really, from the looks of Blaine and how quickly he seemed to be falling ill, it didn't appear that he could get too much worse. Kurt took a deep breath and threw his shoulders back, trying to fool himself into confidence.

"Let's try the warm compress method first," he decided. "We have matches and a small pot in my pack and there's a creek not far from here that I passed before realizing that Blaine wasn't following me. We'll boil the water and cloths to sterilize them and then cool them down to where they're just warm. It's risky to start a fire, but we've been taking risks all along. Blaine needs this. He needs us."

The girls nodded immediately to show that they were on board. Neither of them wanted to deal with maggots unless it was absolutely necessary.

"I'll go get the water," Kurt offered, gathering up all of the empty containers they had. He found a full bottle and tossed it to Santana. "We should probably wake him up and get him hydrated. At the rate he's going, he's going to sweat out every ounce of fluid in his body if we're not careful."

Santana crawled over to take Kurt's spot by Blaine.

"Be careful," she begged Kurt quietly as he slipped out of the cave. Once he was gone, she took a deep breath and turned her attention to Blaine. She positioned herself so that she could lay Blaine's head in her lap.

"Blaine?" she called out, patting his cheek softly. "Blaine, baby, you have to wake up now, okay? You're thirsty and you have to drink some water."

Blaine groaned and his breath labored a bit, but he didn't wake up. Santana knew her little sister was in the corner terrified, so she steeled herself and tried again.

"Blaine," she said, louder this time. "Wake up. You don't have to sit up, but I need you to open your eyes."

Finally, after what appeared to be an intense battle behind his eyelids, Blaine's eyes finally peeked open. They were bloodshot and Santana couldn't be certain, but his eyes appeared more dilated than she thought they should.

"Good, Blaine," she said encouragingly, holding the water bottle to his lips and tilting it slowly. "Take tiny sips okay? I need you to be able to drink this whole thing."

Blaine accepted the slow flow of water passed his parched lips and let his eyelids flutter close as he swallowed. Remembering the instructions Santana gave him a few seconds ago, which in reality felt like ages, he forced his eyes open again. He had no idea what was going on or where he was, but he knew that he, Santana, Kurt and Marina were trying to escape the Community. He lifted his head softly and spotted Marina near his feet.

"Kurt?" he asked simply, before Santana returned the water bottle to his lips.

"He'll be right back," Santana assured. "He went to get you some more water."

"We need to get over the wall," Blaine said, as if just remembering it. "The hole's almost done, we need to leave tonight."

"Blaine," Santana started. This time she couldn't help but throw a worried glance in her sister's direction. "We've already gone over the wall, remember? You got Marina and me across and then Kurt…Kurt needed help and you went to get him and now we're here on the other side."

"Is Kurt okay?" he asked. "Is he hurt?"

Santana's heart broke a little. Here Blaine was with an injury that Santana wasn't entirely sure wouldn't kill him and his main concern was still Kurt.

"He's fine," Santana told him with a small smile. "You saved his life actually."

"I did?"

"You did, now keep drinking. We have to finish this whole thing remember?"

Blaine nodded and did as he was told. Santana kept his attention by telling him stories about all the things that they were going to do once they made it safely to their new home. Before too long, Kurt was back, arms laden with every container filled with creek water.

"How's he doing?" Kurt asked, as he started setting the water bottles down.

"Kurt," Blaine greeted with a weak smile, his words slurring a bit. "I was so worried about you."

"About me?" Kurt asked, relieved that Blaine was not only awake but that he was making coherent sentences. "Don't be silly, it's you we're all worried about, but you're going to be on your feet before you know it, okay?"

"I trust you," Blaine said simply before returning his attention to the water bottle. He'd done well so far, making it three quarters of the way through. Kurt took a moment to watch the boy he'd grown to love more than anyone in the world, before gathering his supplies to start boiling the cloths.

"Where are you going to set up?" Santana asked quietly, knowing good and well he couldn't build a fire right there in the tiny cave.

"On the other side of this there's a little ditch that's kind of hidden,' he answered. "I should be fine. If you hear any noise though, just keep quiet and don't let them know you're in here. I'll lead them away and I'm pretty sure I'm a faster runner than any of them."

Santana bit her bottom lip. She wanted to ask what his plan was if they had guns, but she didn't want to worry him or Marina or Blaine. Kurt was smart and resourceful. He was the only reason they'd made it this far to begin with.

"Good luck," she settled for saying, giving him a quick hug.

"Just make sure he keeps drinking," he instructed, giving Blaine one last long look before leaving the cave with his supplies. Santana bowed her head for a brief moment to pray for Kurt's safety and for Blaine's health before turning back to Blaine.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later, Blaine's condition had not improved in the slightest from the compress therapy. In fact he'd started to get much worse. Early in the morning, Santana and Kurt made the decision.

"He's not going to survive another week like this," Kurt reasoned. He knew that their efforts weren't working and he knew that Santana was reluctant to try the riskier of the plans.

"But what if it goes wrong?"

"He's going to die, Santana," Kurt shot back, his voice wavering. "If it goes wrong, he's going to die, but if we don't try it, he's going to die quicker. I'm so scared, Santana. I love him more than anything or anyone else I've ever loved in my entire life and I can't lose him. Especially if there might be a way to save him."

Santana contemplated the tearful boy in front of her and felt her throat close up as she fought back her own tears. Blaine may have been assigned to her, but there was no denying the love she felt for him as well. It wasn't a romantic love, but a sisterly one. Losing Blaine would be akin to losing Marina at this point and she couldn't bear the thought of either.

"Let's do it," she finally agreed.

"Let's move him outside," Kurt said, immediately moving into action. After nearly four days in cave, they hadn't heard signs of anyone coming after them, so they felt confident in moving Blaine to the ditch behind it. They struggled to carry Blaine outside, doing their best to calm him and keep him from crying out too loudly in pain. It was heartbreaking for all of them.

It had been two days since Blaine was last talking coherently. Now he just babbled nonsensically, as if constantly lost in a dream world. Sometimes he would wake up asking for his mommy and would mistake Santana for her. Mostly though, he carried on about things that made no sense, occasionally laughing at something funny in his head, or crying in fear. Although the behavior scared the other three, they were relieved that he was still talking, at the very least.

As they sat in quiet vigil around Blaine and his exposed wound, all three hoped and prayed that the new plan would work and that Blaine would survive the next few days.


	24. Chapter 24

The images flashed through Blaine's mind like puzzle pieces falling to the ground in slow motion. Nothing was in order or made any sense at all, but at the same time, each image contained a level of familiarity, some a little more than others. Regardless of how well Blaine recognized them, they all seemed real. Each image was painted in a vivid stretch of colors and sounds and they weren't like his dull, murky dreams in the past. When he looked down, he could see his fingers flexing and he could feel the ground underneath his feet. It was real.

It had been so long since he'd seen Cora and Jeremy. After all these years, how could they possibly look the same? Blaine had changed. He was an adult now. But the twins were the same as Blaine remembered them. They were sweet little kids with the most infectious giggles on the planet. They were too young to have to suffer with what they went through. And all these years, Blaine had assumed they were dead. For good reason, too.

He was there when the simple, particle board boxes were unceremoniously placed into the ground. By the time the twins died, within hours of each other, there were no actual coffins left. The survivors buried their own in whatever they could find. Blaine's dad fashioned the vessels out of old bookshelves from their leaking, mildew-ridden basement. Blaine could still remember the smell. He remembered the tears he shed because none of it was good enough to honor Cora and Jeremy in death.

It didn't matter anymore though. By some miracle, the twins were still alive and they were here with Blaine. He couldn't remember how they'd gotten to the grassy field, but he didn't really care. Cora was picking flowers and bringing them to Blaine and Jeremy was climbing the tree that offered them shade on the beautifully warm, breezy day. It was like a slice of paradise.

"This is perfect," an angelic voice next to him sighed. When had Kurt arrived? Blaine turned his head to find his love smiling at him, somehow managing to slip his hand into Blaine's without Blaine noticing. He started to question Kurt, but decided not to. He didn't care how it happened, or how any of them got there, he was just happy about the outcome.

Life didn't get any better. It was everything he'd ever wanted and dreamed for and he couldn't believe he was finally living it.

"Blaine?" Cora's worried voice called out from across the field. "What's happening?"

Blaine sat up a little straighter against the tree trunk.

"What do you mean, Cora?" he asked.

"Over there," Kurt piped in, pointing to the eastern sky. Blaine squinted, trying to determine if what he thought he saw was actually happening.

It was like the sky was folding or crumpling in on itself, like a corner had tugged free to reveal the void behind it. The soft breeze that had been fluttering by turned into a cold, bitter gust.

"It's time to go," Kurt announced with regret.

"Go where?" Blaine asked. He was starting to panic as Cora drifted closer to the void.

"You had to know it wouldn't last forever," Kurt said.

"I don't understand what's happening," Blaine cried as Kurt stood up, leaving him sitting against the trunk. Kurt shook his head sadly and walked over to Cora. In the meantime, Jeremy had extracted himself from the tree and joined his sister. As Kurt approached, he held out his hands to the children and the three walked toward the ever-growing void.

"Wait!" Blaine shouted, scrambling to his feet. "Come back! I—"

With a loud snap, Blaine was knocked to the ground as he watched the void swallow the three people he loved more than life itself. He sat frozen in shock as the perfect world around him disappeared and he was left stuttering in the darkness. He'd never felt so alone in his entire life.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How is he?"

Kurt looked up at the sound of Marina's tired voice as she and Santana came in from a day of food gathering. He'd spent all day picking the tiny, flesh eating bugs out of Blaine's wound. It was an arduous and disgusting task. To be on the safe side, Kurt disinfected the medical tweezers from his first aid kit after every third maggot. He'd been pleasantly surprised at how well the therapy had worked to this point and he didn't want to screw it up by reintroducing infection.

"Good," Kurt sighed. "Relatively speaking, I guess. He's been a lot more active this morning, talking in his sleep and moving around. I think he's finally getting his strength back."

Blaine hadn't been fully conscious for over a week. For a few days, right after starting the treatment, the group had been sure that Blaine wouldn't survive from one hour to the next. He was so weak and so quiet. It was even hard to see his chest rise and fall at times. But once the bugs hatched and began eating away at the dead, diseased tissue, Blaine's immune system seemed to pick up again. Finally, after two nail-biting days, the only tissue exposed was alive and healthy looking.

"I think that's it," Kurt announced with a fair amount of exhaustion in his voice. He pulled back to wipe the sweat from his gritty brow. "Take a look and see if I missed any."

Santana crawled over and peered down at the wound. She carefully traced the edges with her eyes, looking for any trace of leftover bug. After a few minutes she sat back on her heels.

"I don't see any," she said cautiously. "But we should check again later today after it's been covered up for a bit. At least that's what the guide says to do."

Kurt nodded wordlessly and began the process of bandaging the wound. He didn't want to appear overly optimistic, but inside his heart leaped a little. Blaine hadn't looked so good in days, and the fact that he was obviously dreaming again gave him hope.

"Did Blaine ever talk about a Cora or Jeremy?" Kurt asked Santana curiously.

"No," she answered, furrowing her brow. "Never heard of them. Why?"

"He keeps calling out for them," Kurt explained. "Maybe they were childhood friends? He never mentioned anyone to me."

"Every time I tried to ask him about his life before the outbreak, he kind of shut down," Santana said. "It seemed to bother him when I brought it up."

Kurt contemplated Blaine as he lay with his head now resting in Kurt's lap. _What don't I know about you?_ he silently asked the sleeping boy. _What are you keeping from me?_

"I think we should let him sleep the rest of the day," Kurt said. "Maybe try to wake him up for a little while this evening. He hasn't had solid food in over a week, he's got to be hungry."

Santana and Marina nodded in unison. They'd been feeding him a broth made from some of the wild plants outlined in the survival guides. It was hard enough trying to rouse him enough to swallow the bitter concoctions, so they hadn't even bothered trying with solid food.

They remained quiet as they waited out the rest of the day, all three dozing at different times. They were anxious and exhausted at the same time. They were intensely worried about Blaine, and desperate to continue their journey both, but mostly they were just ready to have Blaine back. They just didn't feel right as a trio and they needed their fourth back more than anything else.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blaine opened his eyes again as the cold gust stopped as quickly as it had started. The pitch dark was disorienting to say the least. Two minutes prior, everything had been perfect. Blaine had everything he ever wanted all in one place. It was heaven, he was convinced. And if it was heaven, then he must be dead and if he was dead, the nothingness surrounding him must be hell. He'd never felt this lonely in his entire life.

"Cora!" he screamed. "Jeremy! Kurt!"

His throat burned with the effort, but all that came out was a ragged whisper. It was like the void had taken not only the people he loved, but all of his senses and faculties as well. If only he could have just a few more seconds of the heaven he'd been in, he would gladly embrace this. It was over all too soon. Why had God even tempted him with it? Now he knew what he would be missing and it left him bitter and angry.

"Why?" he whispered, knowing that his screams would have no effect.

"Blaine."

The voice was so soft, he almost didn't hear it, but with it came that warm, gentle breeze again. He looked up to the sky, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Blaine."

The voice was louder now, and it definitely belonged to Kurt. This time, when the voice rang out, a ray of light burst through the darkness, shining brightly on Blaine. It was so bright he had to shield his eyes.

"Kurt?" he called out, this time his voice slightly louder than before.

"Wake up, sweetheart," Kurt's voice instructed. "It's time to wake up now."

Blaine scrambled to his feet once more and began walking toward the beam of light and its welcoming heat.

"I think he's coming around," Kurt's voice spoke softly, but not to Blaine. Someone else must be there.

"Cora?" he called out excitedly. "Cora, is that you? Jeremy?"

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Cora….Jeremy….Co—"

"Blaine," Kurt lightly tapped Blaine on the cheeks as he mumbled inarticulately. "Come on, baby, open your eyes."

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Blaine's eyes opened for the first time in days.

"He's awake!" Kurt called out to no one in particular. "Blaine, wake up, you're doing so well."

Blaine couldn't help but smile at how encouraging Kurt's voice was.

"Where are they?" he mumbled, his own voice sounding foreign to him.

"Who, Blaine?" Kurt asked, concerned.

Blaine had to think about it for a moment. Who was he looking for? Someone had just been with him, someone important, but his memory was quickly slipping away. Just as the image fell from his mind, he remembered.

"The twins," he explained. "Are they here?"

"Twins?" Kurt asked softly. "Blaine, I…"

As Kurt trailed off, reality hit Blaine like a ton of bricks. It had all been a dream. The twins weren't there, how could they be? They'd been dead for over a decade now. How in the world had Blaine thought they were still around, and still the same as they had been before the outbreak?

"Nothing," he covered up quickly. "Never mind, I…I was just confused."

"That's understandable," Kurt chuckled softly. "You've been out for quite a while. Do you remember what happened?"

Blaine thought about it for a moment. They'd escaped the community and Blaine had been injured trying to help Kurt get out. His hand immediately went to his side. As his fingers brushed against the bandaged, he sucked air in through his teeth at the touch.

"It's probably pretty sore," Kurt explained. "It's still healing, but I think you're going to be okay."

"Where are the girls?" Blaine asked, suddenly remembering the other half of their group.

"They went to wash up before the sun sets," Kurt said. "I could probably use the same, I feel disgusting."

"You look beautiful," Blaine answered automatically, and he didn't miss the blush that crept up on Kurt's cheeks.

"You don't know how happy I am to see you awake," Kurt blurted out, tears filling his eyes. "I was so scared I was going to lose you."

"I'm sorry I scared you," Blaine answered earnestly, even though he had no control over what had happened. "I'll never do it again."

Kurt laughed. "Somehow I don't think you have total control over that, but thank you."

"I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too, Blaine. More than you'll ever know."


	25. Chapter 25

"I don't have a good feeling about this."

"Guys—"

"What if the infection isn't completely gone?"

"He may not be strong enough to travel yet."

"Hey, guys—"

"I think we need to wait—"

"Everyone stop!"

It took Blaine roaring at the top of his lungs to get everyone to stop arguing, quite literally right above him. Propping himself up on his elbows, he waited a few seconds to make sure everyone would stay quiet while he addressed the group.

"You guys are talking about me like I'm not even here," he started. "I've been awake for a week now, my wound has scabbed over and I'm feeling a lot better. I think it's time to start moving on from the cave."

"So you've said, Blaine," Kurt sighed somewhat impatiently. "But you have been flat on your back for almost three weeks and more than half of that you spent on the brink of death!"

"Kurt's right," Santana added. "I don't see what the rush is, we've got plenty of food here and a good source of water, I don't really see why we need to risk it."

"We can't be more than five miles outside of the community border, that's the rush," Blaine said. "At some point, they may decide to come after us and if they do, it'll make it that much easier for them to find us if we're right under their noses. We need to move and we need to move now."

The group began squabbling again as everyone tried to get their point across. It was very clearly three against one, but Blaine was holding his ground on the matter.

"You know what?" Kurt finally said angrily. "You guys figure it out, I'm going to go for a walk. If Blaine wants to kill himself by leaving before he's got his strength back there's nothing I can do about it."

Kurt pushed passed a stunned Santana and Marina and moved aside the brush that concealed the entrance to the cave. The bright sun caused his vision to darken momentarily, but within a few seconds he was on his way, taking his normal path to the creek near the cave. The more he thought about leaving the place they'd called home for several weeks, the more frightened he became. The thought was almost scarier than leaving the community had been. Blaine's injury had hit Kurt hard. It rattled his confidence and his belief that they were all going to survive this mess. He couldn't stand the thought of losing any of them, but especially Blaine.

"Kurt?" a small voice called out from behind him. He turned around to find Marina trailing him.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "You're crying."

Kurt hadn't even noticed the angry tears sliding down his cheeks. He wiped them away with a ragged sleeve and sat down at the bank of the creek, motioning for Marina to join him.

"I just have a lot on my mind," Kurt answered. It was the dumbest answer he could have given. They all had a lot on their minds, they'd all been living the same life now for a month, ever since their escape.

"I know," Marina acknowledged softly. "You really love him, don't you?"

"I do," Kurt answered immediately. "I don't think he understands how scared I was. How scared I still am. If we leave before he's ready, who's to say he won't get sick again? I know he thinks he's ready, but you've seen him. He can't even sit up for more than a half hour at a time before having to lay back down again. He's not strong enough."

"Look at it from his point of view," Marina started. "He feels guilty. He feels like he's put everyone in danger by having to stay here and even though none of it is his fault and even though he's not really able, he wants to protect everyone and keep us safe. In his mind, that means we have to start moving out."

"I hadn't really thought about that," Kurt mused. "Have I told you lately how smart you are?"

"You tell me every day," Marina giggled. "That's why—"

"Shh!"

Kurt's finger flew to his mouth as he cut Marina off. She sat there for a moment with her mouth open but silent. Kurt's eyes were darting back and forth. Then Marina heard it.

There were footsteps off in the distance. They were coming from the opposite direction toward the cave and they were marching in unison. It definitely wasn't Santana or Blaine. The footsteps were too far away and there were too many for just two people.

"What do we do?" Marina whispered, her voice trembling.

Kurt looked at her while he tried to figure out a plan. They couldn't make it back to the cave in time without being seen or heard. Their options were to stay on the creek bank or to run and Kurt feared that if they stayed they would be found.

"We need to run," he answered in the quietest, calmest whisper he could manage. Inside, his heart was pounding so hard he was afraid the sound of it would reach the marching men.

"What about Santana and Blaine?" Marina asked. "We can't leave them."

"Did you put the brush back in place when you followed me out?" Kurt asked. Marina nodded with wide eyes. "Good. They'll be fine then as long as they stay quiet. But we won't be if we don't run. I need you to run as fast and as quietly as you can okay? Make sure you check your footing every couple of steps so you don't snag a tree root. Got it?"

Marina nodded. Kurt felt bad for lying to her. He had no idea if the cave was concealed well enough to keep the others safe. And if either decided to venture out or if their argument became too heated and their voices loud enough to attract attention, they would be dead. But Kurt couldn't think about that. He had to focus on the promise he'd made to both Santana and himself. His number one priority was to keep Marina safe and as much as he wanted to make his way back to the cave to get the others, there was no way of doing that without killing them all.

Kurt grabbed Marina's hand and squeezed it before quickly and quietly helping her to her feet. He let go of her hand and leaped to the other side of the creek, motioning for her to do the same. Once they were both over they began running. Kurt stayed behind Marina to shield her from any attacks from behind and to be able to pay better attention to their surroundings. He wanted to make sure they could make their way back to the cave if possible without getting lost.

After several miles, the adrenaline coursing through Marina's veins finally gave out and she stopped in her tracks, bracing her forearms on her thighs as she hunched over, trying to catch her breath. Kurt found himself doing the same. Once their breathing evened out a bit and Kurt could hear above the sounds of his lungs overworking, he tilted his head toward the direction they'd been running in. There was nothing but silence.

"What now?" Marina breathed heavily.

"I think we should get off the ground," Kurt said, looking up to the trees above them. "That way if they do come out this far, we'll be able to scout them out and see what direction they head in."

Marina nodded and Kurt began walking around looking for the best tree.

"This one looks good," Kurt announced after a few minutes.

"What are we going to do about food and water?" Marina asked. "Neither of us have our bags."

"Shit," Kurt muttered under his breath. He hadn't even thought about it. He always remembered to bring his pack with him when he left the cave, but he had been so upset this time, he hadn't even thought about it.

"Let's gather what we can, okay?" Kurt instructed. "I'm not sure if there's a water source around here, but we'll find some plants with a higher water content. Do you remember which ones to get from the field guide?"

"I think so," Marina answered with a small amount of confidence. It wasn't often in this situation that she got to feel useful.

"Good," Kurt said. "We'll stick together and if anything happens, just follow my lead, alright?"

"Got it," she affirmed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Several hours later, the pair found themselves up in the tree, assessing what they were able to gather. They had several pockets full of berries, some leafy plants and edible roots with a high water content. They hadn't been able to find a water source, but they didn't anticipate being in the tree for too long. Just in case, they'd fashioned a bowl out of bark and twigs and layered leaves on the inside to catch any rain that might fall. It was a long shot, but it was all they had.

Both of them quietly wondered to themselves how they were going to reunite with Blaine and Santana, or if they would even see the pair again. Neither wanted to discuss that second part out loud, so they both kept their thoughts to themselves.

Finally, Marina drifted to sleep as the sun was starting its slow descent toward the horizon, leaving Kurt all alone with his thoughts. He tried to think as logically as possible about how they could all hope to reunite, but it was no use. All he could think about was the last thing he'd said before he stormed out of the cave.

_If Blaine wants to kill himself by leaving before he's got his strength back there's nothing I can do about it._

Not 'I love you' or 'I care about you too much to let you risk your life again because you feel you're holding us back.' He'd spoken out of anger and fear and now it was possibly the last thing he'd ever say in Blaine's presence.

Kurt bit his fist to keep his sobs from becoming loud enough to wake Marina. Blaine and Santana could very well be dead right now, or imprisoned with the Officials and on their way back to the community for public execution. This wasn't in the plan. It was never a part of the plan for some of their group to make it out while others didn't. Kurt knew he'd done what he needed to do by keeping Marina safe, but that knowledge didn't make the truth any easier.

Santana and Blaine were probably dead, or at least as good as dead. And even if they weren't, there were several miles of separation between the two pairs and Kurt was fairly certain a return to the cave was not a smart or safe plan. If it was just him, maybe he would risk it, but he had to think about Marina and there was no way in hell he was going to take her back in the direction of those footsteps.

Just then, Marina let out a soft snore in her sleep and Kurt straightened up against the trunk. He had to pull himself together. Sitting there crying wasn't going to help anyone. He needed a plan.

Kurt spent the rest of the night going over different scenarios in his mind, weighing the pros and cons of each plan before eventually settling upon the one that he hoped would offer not only the best chance for survival, but also the best chance of reuniting with Blaine and Santana if such a thing were still possible.

He was still evening out the rough edges of his plan as he drifted off to sleep, his body finally winning the battle over his mind to give Kurt some much needed rest for the challenges that lay ahead of him.


	26. Chapter 26

Santana, Marina and Blaine sat stunned as an obviously emotional Kurt made his way hastily out of the cave. It wasn't often that Kurt lost his cool these days. Not since the night they started their escape. In fact, he'd been the clear-headed, logical one ever since they ran into the wall at the community border all those weeks ago. He'd reached his breaking point with the situation with Blaine it seemed, and now the emotion was boiling over from within him.

"I'll go talk to him," Marina volunteered softly, making her way out to follow him. She knew that any decisions about staying or leaving would be made between Santana and Blaine and she desperately wanted to feel useful in some way. She'd taken an instantaneous liking to both boys the moment she met them, but especially Kurt. He always included her in their discussions and the way he was so sure about himself and their plan made her feel at ease. She wanted to give Kurt what he'd been giving her this entire time, peace of mind and perspective.

Santana and Blaine watched Marina silently as she made her as she exited the cave and carefully placed the brush back over the opening. Once they were alone, Santana turned back to Blaine.

"You know how much he loves you, right?" she asked with her arms folded over her chest.

"Yes," he answered quietly.

"Do you realize how hard he's fought to keep himself, to keep all of us together since we left?"

Blaine didn't answer. He knew what she was getting at.

"We thought we were going to lose you," Santana added quietly. "You don't...you don't understand what that was like, especially for him. So yeah, maybe it seems like we're dragging our feet, but none of us want to risk losing you again. We just got you back."

"I understand that, San, I really do," Blaine finally spoke up. "But if we stay here too long, I'm afraid our luck is going to run out."

They were at an impasse. Blaine knew it was three against one and unless he wanted to strike out on his own, the whole conversation was futile. They were going to stay exactly where they were until Santana and Kurt were satisfied that he was healthy enough to make the trip.

"Do you hear that?" Blaine asked in a curious voice after they had sat in silence for several minutes. Santana was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of his voice and her ears instantly perked up.

"Yeah," she mused. "It sounds like marching."

As soon as she realized what she'd said, her eyes grew wide and her hand flew to her mouth. Her head whipped around to where Blaine was half-sitting, half-lying and saw the same expression on his face. Someone was coming toward the cave and Kurt and Marina were outside somewhere.

Without thinking, Santana scrambled to her feet and started to make her way toward the cave entrance, but was stopped when she felt Blaine's arm around her waist.

"Are you crazy?" he hissed as he pulled her into a sitting position beside him. "Where are you going?"

"Marina is out there!" she whispered. "She's out there in the open, I have to go get her!"

The footsteps were coming closer. Whoever it was, they were within a few dozen yards of the cave.

"They're too close," Blaine said, his voice barely audible. He didn't want to risk giving their location away, assuming it wouldn't be obvious from the outside.

"But-"

"She's with Kurt," Blaine cut her off. "Out of all of us, he's the quickest, smartest and most resourceful. He'll keep her safe."

Blaine could hear the tremble in his words, but it was no match to what he felt inside. He was terrified. Terrified for Kurt and Marina, but more terrified for himself and Santana. They were sitting ducks, with absolutely no way to escape if the marchers came upon the cave. He knew that Kurt would be able to run with Marina and get somewhere safe, assuming the marchers didn't have guns. At the thought of gunfire, Blaine swallowed hard.

Santana knew Blaine was right. It was too late to go running after Marina. And if her little sister had to be in this situation with anyone, she was glad it was Kurt. Despite his emotions earlier, she knew that he would lay his life down for Marina if need be. The thought of losing either of them was terrible, but with the footsteps coming closer and closer, she found her thoughts about her sister's safety quickly being replaced by her fears for her own.

As the marchers came closer, Blaine and Santana could hear muffled voices. They pulled each other closer, staying as quiet as possible and praying that the group would move past their hiding place.

"Hey guys, look at this."

Both Santana and Blaine drew in shaky breaths as they heard the voice directly on the other side of the brush. Each could hear their own heartbeats in their ears and were positive that the sound was echoing off of the walls of the small camp-out.

"Those are definitely footprints," Another voice added. "Someone was here."

Santana squeezed her eyes shut. _Please keep walking, please keep walking,_ she silently repeated to herself, clasping her hand hard over her mouth to keep from crying out in fear.

"Weapons out, boys," the first voice commanded. Blaine begin mechanically stroking Santana's back to try to keep both of them calm as they heard guns being released from holsters and hammers pulled back.

Within seconds, brush was being pulled back from the opening.

 _This is it,_ Blaine thought in shock. _We're dead._

Santana couldn't repress the whimper that escaped when the brush was cleared and they were faced with four huge men with guns drawn. The man closest to them looked down at the frightened, exhausted pair and broke out into a wide grin.

"Jackpot."


	27. Chapter 27

"Jackpot."

Blaine's grip on Santana's shoulder was so tight it probably would have hurt if Santana could feel anything other than fear the moment they came face to face with the armed men.

"Well look at what we have here, boys," the man spoke again, not bothering to lower his weapon. "Two little love birds."

The other men laughed at the lame joke for a brief second before the first man, who was obviously in charge, cleared his throat.

"Get them out, boys."

They holstered their weapons and pushed their way into the small cave, all three wanted to be the one to drag the couple out and the consequence was that hands were landing on every part of Blaine's and Santana's bodies as they were pried from the cave.

As if she finally understood the situation for the first time, something within Santana snapped and she began fighting back.

"Get your hands off me, asshole!" she shouted as she kicked at the hands that were trying to grab her.

"Santana, don't!" Blaine pleaded with her as he complied with the men. He was already outside of the cave and being restrained while Santana remained inside and he was absolutely terrified that Santana was giving the men a reason to pull their guns out again.

Santana barely heard Blaine's plea as she kept fighting against the men, two of them, inside the cave.

"Stop kicking you stupid bitch!"

"What did you call me?"

"San, stop it!"

"Everybody freeze!"

The bark from the main officer accompanied with the click of his gun put an immediate stop to the commotion. Santana finally stopped resisting and let her limbs fall limp. She wouldn't fight against them anymore, but she certainly wasn't going to help them. They could drag her out if they wanted her out that bad. It took a bit of effort, but the two men finally got her out of the cave, ordered her to stand and tied her hands in front of her.

"You two have caused the community quite a bit of trouble," the main officer said as he paced in front of Blaine and Santana. "There's been an uprising of sorts, people trying to rebel, some trying to escape. We've had to execute seventeen and punish dozens more. How do you feel being responsible for so many deaths?"

Blaine refused to make eye contact with the man as he stopped in front of him, asking the question with his face no more than two inches away from Blaine's. He couldn't believe that their departure could have caused such a response.

"Answer my question!"

"Terrible, sir!" Blaine blurted out honestly. He could feel Santana tense beside him.

"You were in line to become an Official," the man continued, satisfied to have elicited such a response from the boy. "You and your wife here would have had a great life in the community, and now…now that's all ruined. And you…"

The officer slowly turned his attention to Santana.

"Sneaking your sister out of the dormitory? That took a lot of balls, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that," Santana snarled, refusing to break eye contact. Within a split second, the man delivered a swift backhand to her that echoed through the woods. Santana worked her jaw, allowing her head to stay down this time.

"I will call you whatever I want," he snapped. "Now, sweetheart, do you want to tell me where your sister and your little Infertile friend ran off too?"

"They aren't here!" Blaine shouted and was met with the same response as Santana's. Instead of a backhand, however, he received a swift punch that would have sent him reeling if he wasn't being held by two of the men.

"I didn't ask you! Now, tell me where they are, Santana!"

Santana finally raised her head up and the officer could see tears gathering in her eyes.

"They're probably dead by now," she said quietly. "We haven't seen them since the night we escaped."

"Is that so? Westerville, is that the case?"

"Yes sir," Blaine added quietly, trying to block out the ringing in his ears from the punch in order to play along with the lie. "Santana and I were searching for food and we thought we heard a noise so we bolted. Later that night we heard screaming, but we couldn't tell where it was coming from. I just assumed they'd been caught."

"Well isn't that a nice little story?" the man said sarcastically. "If I find out the two of you are lying to me, being put in front of the firing squad in the town commons will be the least of your worries.

Blaine had a hard time picturing what could possibly be worse than their imminent death, but he decided it would be best not to ask.

"Sir, we need to get moving if we're going to make it before sunset," one of the other officers said. The main officer nodded and started walking back in the direction of the community.

"Let's go," one of the officers grasping Blaine's arm ordered and he began moving forward. Santana and the officer restraining her fell in line behind. All in all there were six of them, four officers and Blaine and Santana and they moved quickly through the woods. There was no talking amongst them, and Santana was thankful she was being left alone with her thoughts for a while. She had to think of a way out of this.

She kept a careful eye on Blaine as he shuffled in front of her. After about a half a mile, it became obvious that the activity was starting to wear the injured boy down. He had an officer at each elbow pushing him forward, but with more and more frequency, Blaine was starting to stumble over his own feet. Santana could see sweat trickling down the back of his neck. After nearly a mile, Blaine slowed to a stop.

"Move it, Westerville, let's go!" the officer on his right barked and gave him a swift shove. Blaine stumbled forward again and began heavily throwing one foot out in front of the other. Santana watched helplessly as his guards pushed him along every few feet. She was just about to ask for a break when Blaine tumbled to the ground.

"Blaine!" she called out and tried to rush to him. The officer walking with her held her back. Blaine lay motionless on the forest ground.

"What the hell is going on here?" the lead officer asked, exasperated as he turned around and knelt down in front of him.

"He's injured, sir," Santana said, hoping it would convince them to go a little easier on him.

"Where?"

"In the stomach," she added. The officer lifted up his shirt and examined the wound.

"That's a pretty deep cut," he mused, not with any concern, but with curiosity. The two officers that had been holding Blaine knelt down to get a closer look.

"That's going to be a hell of a scar," one of them noted.

"He's not going to be alive long enough for it to become a scar, you dumbass," the other said.

"Is he breathing?"

"Yeah, he's—"

BANG

All three of the officers immediately whipped their heads in the direction of the gunshot and the resulting cry of agony that accompanied it. Stunned, they saw Santana, hands still bound, standing over them with her guard's gun pointed directly at the lead officer's forehead.

"Hands where I can see them!" Santana ordered. The guard she'd shot lay curled up on his side, whimpering loudly. Blaine's two guards quickly threw their hands in the air while the head guard remained still, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Now, sweetheart," he said quietly. "You've already gotten yourself into enough trouble, why don't you put the gun down."

"Put your hands up now," Santana repeated quietly. "And don't call me that again."

The man remained quiet and start to put his hands in the air, his eyes never leaving Santana's. Just as Santana was starting to lower the gun slightly, he lunged for her.

BANG

One of the other guards screamed out as their leader fell straight to the ground, unmoving on top of Blaine's body. Santana had seen him flinch right before he lunged and didn't bother taking chances. Her hands shook as she redirected the aim of the gun onto one of the other guards.

"Move him off of Blaine," she instructed, her voice starting to shake a bit. She'd never held a gun in her life, let alone shot one. "Now!"

The men scrambled to turn the body over and drag it off of Blaine. Santana had to fight the bile that rose in her throat when she saw that the shot had gone straight through his right eye. He was obviously dead and from the look of the other guard she'd shot, he would be dead soon as well. In the span of a few short minutes, Santana had become a killer.

"Toss me your weapons and your extra ammo," she said, once they'd completed the task. "Wait! One at a time. You first, Red."

The redheaded officer slowly took his gun out of the holster and tossed it at Santana's feet before reaching into the pack on his belt and throwing her the extra bullets he carried. Without saying a word, Santana focused the gun on the other officer and he tossed her his items as well.

"Holsters and belts too," Santana added after thinking about it. Those could come in handy as well. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Blaine was starting to stir.

"What's going on?" Blaine slurred, oblivious to the chaos around him.

"Stay there, Blaine," Santana said firmly. He didn't question it.

"Please let me go!" the redheaded officer begged suddenly. He'd seen the other two be killed by Santana without a second thought and he didn't want to be next.

"Why should I?" Santana asked, knowing it probably wasn't the best idea to engage with the officer. "You weren't going to let us go were you? You were going to march us straight to our deaths."

"Please," the other officer added. "We were just doing our jobs. You know how it is there."

This caused Santana to pause. She did know what it was like there, which is exactly why she'd convinced the others to escape. But she couldn't just let these two go. She knew they'd run back to the community and bring reinforcements.

"Untie Blaine's hands," she said after thinking for a moment. The officers did what was told. "Now Red, you tie up Lurch's hands behind his back."

The redheaded officer contemplated his taller friend for a moment before motioning for him to put his hands behind him.

"And it better be tight," Santana added. "I'm not afraid to use this again."

Red believed her and made sure the knots were slip-proof.

"Santana, what's going on?"

Santana hadn't even realized that Blaine was now sitting upright, taking in the scene around him. He still looked weak, but Santana could tell that his brain was working hard to him back to the present.

"Blaine, untie my hands," she said, walking over to him. She didn't want to put the gun down in case Red made a jump for it, but she moved her finger off of the trigger. Blaine made quick work of untying the knots and Santana flexed her sore wrists for a few seconds before returning her attention to the other officer.

"Blaine's going to tie you up now," she said, motioning to Blaine to take her rope and restrain him. Red quickly put his hands behind his back, not wanting to provoke Santana in any way. Despite how groggy Blaine had been a few minutes prior, the reality of the situation had caused him to become incredibly alert. He tied the officer's hands as tightly as possible and then turned to check the restraints on the other officer for good measure.

"Lay on your stomachs," she continued, once their arms were tied. The men reluctantly lied down and Santana finally put the gun down to help Blaine tie their feet to one another's. By the time they were finished, the officer duo looked fairly comical with random limbs from each one of them tied to the other in a haphazard fashion. It was the only way they could be sure that they wouldn't be able to untie each other once Santana and Blaine were gone.

Santana began gathering the supplies that the officers had thrown at her and despite how sick it made her feel, she also pried the weapons, ammo and belts off of the two dead officers.

"Let's go," she said quietly to Blaine and they began walking away from the scene.

"Wait, you're just going to leave us here?" Lurch cried out, his voice slightly muffled from the way his throat pressed against the dirty ground. Santana turned around.

"Would you prefer it if I just killed you?" She asked, taking a few steps forward. "I didn't think so. I'm sure some of your friends will come looking for you soon."

She didn't wait for an answer as she stalked off, supporting Blaine along the way. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach, and she wasn't sure if it was because she'd just killed two people, or if it was because she really should have killed the others as well. Surely, if they were rescued, they'd tell the Officials exactly what happened and even more reinforcements would be sent out.

She couldn't think about it though, she had to focus on getting her and Blaine to a safe place and then figure out a way to reunite with Kurt and Marina after that. Despite what had just happened, she couldn't help but smile at the fact that Kurt and Marina had escaped the officers. If only she could figure out where they were. She knew that Marina was in good hands with Kurt, but that didn't stop her from worrying. It was her baby sister, after all.

Before she let her mind wander too much, she reluctantly pushed the thoughts of her sister and best friend out of her mind and focused on the situation she and Blaine were currently in. They walked at a slower pace than they had with the officers and took more frequent breaks.

"Still think you're ready to travel?" Santana asked on one such break. Blaine didn't answer, instead just gave her a weary smile.

"That's what I thought," she grinned. Despite how horrifying the day had been, she was confident that they were out of harm's way, at least for the moment. Whatever the next day would bring would be a different story.


	28. Chapter 28

It had been nearly a week since Kurt and Marina ran from the cave, away from the heavy footsteps that marched toward their temporary home with everything they held dear inside. They'd been afraid to move from their new hiding spot. They were afraid to move farther and farther away from where Santana and Blaine had been, but they were also afraid of getting caught if they moved deeper into the woods. At some point, if they kept travelling, they would hit civilization again, either one of the much-rumored independent colonies if they were lucky, or another Community if they weren't. Communication with people outside of one's own Community was impossible, so there was no way of knowing what the duo might run into next.

It was early in the morning as Kurt woke up from yet another night of troubled sleep. He hadn't slept well since the day they were separated from Santana and Blaine. He had this constant, sinking feeling that he'd seen his friend and lover for the last time and he couldn't forgive himself for his last words to both of them being words of anger. He shook his head firmly to get the thoughts out of his head, but it was of no use. He needed some closure on the situation, especially if he was going to be able to do right by Marina. Kurt realized he may be the only person left in her life and he owed it to Santana to take that responsibility seriously.

Kurt was still deep in thought when he heard Marina stirring awake in the branch next to him. After a moment of shifting her weight a bit, eyes still closed, she sat straight up, as if suddenly alerted to danger. She whipped her head around from side to side and harbored a look of bewildered fear on her face, just like every morning since they'd run.

"It's okay," Kurt reassured softly, placing his hand on her shoulder. "We're alright, we're safe."

Her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. She nodded in recognition and took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to Kurt's again. He could see how exhausted she was, and how the past month or so since their escape had taken a toll on her. _This all better be worth it,_ Kurt thought to himself. He offered her a small smile, it was the most he could muster.

"We need to start thinking about what we're going to do," Kurt spoke again. In reality, he already had a plan in mind, and he knew that Marina would follow him blindly if he asked her to, but he wanted to include her in the decision making, and for her to feel included in it as well.

"What about Santana and Blaine?" Marina asked, almost involuntarily scanning the area around their tree as they both had been for days. They spent the majority of the day and night in silence, hoping to hear footfalls belonging to the other pair.

"Well," Kurt started, drawing in a steadying breath. "I was thinking that I would go back to the cave today—"

"I'm coming with," Marina immediately volunteered, as Kurt knew, but hoped she wouldn't do. It was too dangerous, the both of them going. What if the Officials had camped out at the cave, hoping that someone would return?

"Marina, it's…it's too risky, if someone is there, waiting—"

"Please Kurt," Marina begged, her eyes growing wide. "Please."

Kurt hated the look on her face, and he hated even more the tactic he was about to employ.

"What do you think Santana would want you to do?"

The words tasted bad coming out of his mouth, but he had to do something. If this kept Marina safe, he could live with the guilt. He could tell by the look of muted disdain on her face that Marina knew what he was doing too, and she didn't like it one bit.

"I'm sorry, Marina, but I made a promise to Santana that I would take care of you," Kurt spoke the words in a rush, hoping his words would sway her to his decision. She took her time, but she finally answered him.

"I know," she said with a fair amount of resignation. "I understand."

Kurt felt a rush of relief and spontaneously grabbed her into a tight hug before sitting back and explaining the plan he had in mind. He would go back to the cave, keeping his distance so that he could hopefully spot any danger before danger spotted him. Marina was to stay in the tree top until he returned.

"And if you don't?" she asked quietly. Kurt hadn't wanted to think that part of the plan out, but he had anyway.

"If I don't," Kurt explained. "After two days, if I'm not back, keep heading northwest like we planned. Do you remember how to use the sun to guide you?"

She nodded.

"Good," Kurt continued. "You know you are just as capable as the rest of us right? You're strong, fast and smart, and you need all of these things to survive, okay?"

"Kurt, I don't want you to go," Marina blurted out, suddenly afraid of being left alone by the only person she was sure she had left in her life.

"I know," Kurt answered. "I don't want to leave you either, but it's just for a few hours, hopefully, and we have to know what happened back there, and if there's a chance that Blaine and Santana…"

He trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He knew that leaving the cave in such a huff that day had more than likely saved his and Marina's life, but the thought of the others being trapped in that cave like cornered prey was simply unbearable.

"Hurry back," Marina broke the silence with a whisper, mustering all the courage she had inside of her just to speak the words. Kurt nodded and pulled her into another long hug, whispering the affirmations he was so fond of telling her as often as she was willing to hear them. She needed to know that she was strong and that she could survive. Kurt needed her to know that.

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As Kurt grew closer and closer to the cave, he slowed his pace, landing each foot gradually to reduce the loudness of the crunching leaves underneath his feet. So far, his journey had been uneventful. He hadn't heard so much as a bird chirping in the several miles between their new hiding place and the old. It didn't appear that anyone was staking out the cave or the woods around it and for the most part, this offered Kurt relief. On the other hand, he still had no clues about where his friends may be.

His eyes finally landed on the little cave about fifty yards away, and Kurt could feel his heart pounding in his ears. It didn't look right, not even from a distance. As he walked closer, he could see the brush that usually covered the entrance to the cave had been tossed aside, or, perhaps a more accurate description, torn away from the small mouth.

"No, no, no," he mumbled softly to himself as he got to the opening of the cave. He dropped to his knees and crawled halfway in, angling his body so that the sun would shine in and illuminate their former living space.

There had been a struggle, there was no denying that. The pattern of dirt on the ground seemed to indicate that one or both of them had been dragged out, and most of their supplies were still there, haphazardly tucked in different corners of the tiny space. He shuffled back out of the cave and stood up, looking down the path for any more clues. At least there was no dried blood anywhere, but that was the smallest of comforts.

Blaine and Santana had been taken, and with Blaine's health compromised, Kurt couldn't envision a scenario where the two of them could have possibly survived. Maybe, by some small miracle, Santana might have slipped away, but Blaine…

Kurt gulped back tears as he mechanically went back to the cave and grabbed the four packs that the group had carried out with them that first night of the escape. When he came to Blaine's, he hugged it tightly to his chest, sobbing and rocking his body back and forth, trying to soothe his breaking heart.

After a few minutes of mourning, Kurt pulled himself together enough to loosen his grip on the pack and take a few deep breaths. He had to get back to Marina. He knew she would have started to worry the minute Kurt walked out of her sight and it wouldn't be fair to her to leave her waiting longer than necessary. How was he supposed to tell her about this, though? How in the world was he supposed to deliver this kind of news?

Wiping his nose on the back of his forearm, he crawled back out of the cave with the packs and stood up straight. Whatever he was going to tell her, he was going to have to figure it out by the time he made it back to their tree.

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In the end, he decided he would just tell her exactly what he'd found. She was old enough to hear the truth, and he would offer her his honest opinions on what he thought transpired. They would most likely mourn for the rest of the day, try to get some sleep and then move farther into the woods. His heart was telling him they needed more time, that he was being callous and they needed time to properly grieve, but his brain was stuck in survival mode. Regardless of what more than likely happened to Santana and Blaine, they had to keep going. They had to move on in their memory. Because that's what they would have wanted.

As the tree came into view, Kurt stopped in his tracks for a moment to gather his thoughts, steel his nerves, and pick out the best way to word what he wanted to say to Marina. It wasn't going to be easy, but at least they had each other.

With a final deep breath, Kurt soldiered on towards his destination.


	29. Chapter 29

_Three weeks later_

Kurt and Marina were beyond exhausted. They were closing in on almost a month on their own and the daily travel was starting to wear the duo down. When Kurt had returned from his mission to the abandoned cave, he didn't need to say anything to Marina. She was able to read it all in his face. They cried, they reminisced, and they cried some more before falling into a fitful sleep, only to wake up feeling numb and foggy the next morning.

They were silent as they packed their meager belongings and shimmied down the tree for the last time. They walked for a few hours, stopping when they came to any water reserve or when they came across a patch of berries or a scattering of nuts on the forest floor. They'd been out in the wilderness long enough to know what was safe to eat and what wasn't without having to refer to Marina's guidebooks.

There hadn't been any signs of civilization since fleeing the cave all those weeks ago, although occasionally, their route through the woods would take them across long abandoned highways and crumbling roads. A rusty old service station popped into view once, and sheer pessimism of finding anything worthwhile was the only thing that kept them from exploring. They were still traveling onward, but their hearts weren't quite in it. Of course they had grown to love and care for each other, but it felt like a huge piece of them had been gouged violently out. They felt as if they would never be whole again.

"Do you think it'll get easier?" Marina asked Kurt out of the blue one day. At first he didn't understand what she was asking. He almost asked for clarification before he figured it out.

"I think so," Kurt answered, despite the way the knife turned cruelly in his gut as he spoke the words. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how it ever could be anything less than completely and utterly devastating, but he needed to share in Marina's small sense of hope, her tiny optimism.

"I miss her so much," Marina admitted, voice trembling. Kurt felt tears burning his own eyes. He nodded wordlessly.

They were silent again after that, the way they had been for the majority of their travels. They didn't speak much because every time they did, the conversation drifted back to Santana and Blaine and they found themselves incapable of focusing on the task at hand, which was survival. If they could just make it to their destination safely, then they would have time to properly mourn. The problem was, they weren't even sure where they were going or if they'd even know when they'd reached their destination in the first place.

Even though they didn't talk much while they travelled during the day, the nights were different. Underneath the stars, usually up in a tall tree, they would talk quietly until they fell asleep. Their conversations always started out with planning out the next day, wondering when they would finally run into one of the oft-dreamed about safe havens outside of the Communities. They would talk about how wonderful it was going to be, not having the restrictions and punishments they were so used to.

"I wish Blaine and Santana could be here with us when we finally make it," one of them would almost always say. The other would sigh in agreement and the conversation would veer from there. They would be talking to each other in the beginning, but by the end it was like they were having two separate conversations, each with themselves, or rather, Marina conversing with an absent Santana and Kurt with an absent Blaine. As hard as each was trying to grasp the reality of the situation, neither was quite ready to make that final leap into acceptance.

Kurt would always wait until he heard Marina's breathing evening out before he allowed himself to succumb to the exhaustion himself. He felt better knowing that she wouldn't be sitting there awake, unable to sleep while he slumbered. It gave him some small comfort that, despite everything, they each got a slight reprieve for the short hours they were unconscious.

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Kurt awoke with a start one morning, almost shooting straight up before he remembered his surroundings and realized that if he did pop up from where he half-laid, half-sat on the branch, his forehead would be met with the branch directly above him, leaving a nasty knot and a nasty headache to match. He turned his head to the side to see Marina watching him. She looked as sleepy as he felt.

"Hey," he greeted, voice gravelly from lack of use. "How long have you been awake?"

"Just a few minutes," she replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I had a good dream."

Kurt perked up a bit at this. Despite how horrible he felt inside, it gave him hope that Marina was showing even the smallest sign of improving. "Tell me about it," he encouraged.

"I dreamt that you and I woke up because someone was shouting our names from below," she explained, a small, incredibly rare smile spreading across her lips as she spoke. "It was them. They said they had been looking for us all this time and couldn't believe it when they found us. We hopped down from the tree and just started hugging them and dancing around and laughing…it was really good."

Kurt found himself smiling for the first time in weeks as Marina recounted the dream. It wasn't real, but as she spoke, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy with her, and he felt a warmth inside of him that he hadn't felt in a while. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was the beginning of healing.

"That does sound like a good dream," Kurt agreed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. They both began to sit up slowly and within a few minutes, they'd eaten a meager breakfast and were climbing back down the tree.

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"It can't be too much farther," Marina found herself saying a few hours later, much as she had every day for about the last two weeks. She was right, of course. They had to eventually run into _something,_ and Kurt was honestly surprised it hadn't happened yet.

"I'm sure it's—"

"FREEZE!"

Before Kurt could finish his sentence, he and Marina were surrounded by about six people on all sides. They'd appeared out of nowhere, jumping out of trees or from behind tall bushes and brush. Some had guns drawn, some had knives, and all weapons were aimed on the two of them. Kurt and Marina threw their hands up and out, protecting themselves as best they could.

"Who are you?" a woman asked, looking Kurt in the eyes. The people weren't dressed like the officers from their old community, but he had no way of knowing how it worked in other communities.

"K-Kurt 3 Lima," he stammered quietly with his hands still in the air. He was caught so off-guard, he didn't even have time to think about lying. "A-and this is Marina 3 Lima."

"Three what?" the woman asked, obviously confused. "Who do you represent?"

"I don't, I don't know what you're asking," Kurt stumbled again.

"Where are you from?" the woman clarified impatiently.

"Columbus," Kurt answered, hoping the truth would save them somehow. He had the feeling that this rag-tag looking team of people surrounding him didn't represent an official Community. At least, that's what he hoped. "We escaped a couple of months ago. We're looking for refuge."

"You're no longer members of your Community?" she asked. Both Kurt and Marina shook their heads. "Pat them down."

The surrounding members rushed forward and began patting the two down thoroughly. Kurt and Marina could do nothing but look at each other with overwhelmed expressions.

"They're clean, Marge," one of the men affirmed.

"Alright, bring 'em in," Marge ordered, and with a person on each elbow and one behind, the group began marching toward an unknown location.

"Where are you taking us?" Marina blurted out. Kurt shot a look at her, trying to convey to her to stay quiet. He still wasn't sure if these people were trying to help them or harm them.

"You're seeking refuge, correct?" Marge asked, looking back at Marina. Marina nodded, but Marge turned around wordlessly and kept leading them. Kurt prayed that it was a good sign.

About a half a mile later, the group reached a wall, similar in size and scope to the one surrounding their old Community. As they neared, Kurt's feet involuntarily stopped moving.

"No," he grunted, trying to throw off the hands that grasped his elbows. He'd traveled too far to be dragged back into the confines of a Community, even if it was a different one from his own.

"Let him go," Marge ordered, and the two men immediately dropped their grips. Kurt stumbled back a few feet, shocked that he'd been released. Marge advanced slowly, with her hands held out to show that she wasn't going to reach for her weapon. "It's okay, son," she spoke gently. "The walls are to keep bad people out, not good people in. You're free to come and go from here."

Kurt was wide-eyed and silent as he tried to absorb what Marge was telling him. She was slightly older than middle-aged, but fit and obviously the leader in this group. She spoke to him like he was a child, but not in a condescending way. And really, Kurt was still a child in a lot of ways, craving the affection of a parent that had been ripped away from him at such a young age. Tears started to collect in his eyes as he fought hard to maintain a steely exterior. He caught Marina watching him curiously out of the corner of his eye.

"Why don't you just take a look inside," Marge offered. "You can walk in on your own and you can leave if you want, but at least take a look. We aren't like the Community you're from, I promise you that."

Kurt studied her for another moment before nodding slightly. Marge signaled for the group to head in and she stayed behind while Kurt found the courage to step forward. Picking up his feet and placing one in front of the other was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he had to know if this was what they'd been looking for. He'd come all this way, lost so much, he couldn't turn his back on what could have been his saving grace. Marge walked with him, but far enough away from him that Kurt didn't feel threatened.

He watched as Marina disappeared with the group inside of the gate in the wall and it suddenly clicked inside of him that he was neglecting his duty to protect her at all cost. He picked up his pace until he was half-walking, half-jogging through the entrance.

What he saw inside was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. There were people milling around freely, in and out of buildings, tending to small gardens or animals. There were children running around from place to place, carefree and giggling. It wasn't heaven, Kurt was sure of that. It was obvious that people were working hard and struggling, but it was so different than what he was used to. No uniforms, no neatly manicured lawns, no signs indicating 'Fertiles Only' or 'Infertile Housing Unit' or anything to suggest that there was any such designation at all. Kurt allowed his eyes to scan the area directly in front of him several times over.

"Welcome to New Lima," Marge said, pride filling her words. "We're all former refugees, or in the case of some of the younger ones, children of former refugees. We are a community in the sense that we work together for the common good, but you won't find any restrictions here on how you choose to live. Everyone is expected to help out in whatever way they can, but there are no roles, no punishments, no violence whatsoever. You and your friend are welcome to stay here if you'd like."

Kurt had no words prepared for this situation. He had no idea how to work through the plethora of emotions that were hitting him at that moment. His inability to speak and the reasons behind it must have been evident on his face, because Marge let out a chuckle and patted him gently on the back.

"Take a look around and get back to me, okay?" she asked. "I'll be right over there when you've made your decision."

Kurt barely managed a nod as he started walking slowly toward the group of people in front of him. He'd barely gotten close enough to reach out and touch one of the travelling tomato vines in a small square garden when he heard a familiar voice call out his name. A voice that he hadn't heard in weeks and that he never expected to hear again. A voice that he fell in love with all over again in that instant.

"Kurt?"

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 **TO BE CONTINUED...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, everyone, thank you for reading! Stay tuned for a sequel coming soon. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this story, I really enjoyed writing it for you! --CC16


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